


The Pet Detectives

by ivywoman63



Category: The 100 (TV), clexa - Fandom
Genre: F/F, Romance, Romantic Comedy, Smut, Some angst, it is a fetish?, maybe it's because i like pets, omg i just realized i'm writing about pets again, rich girl/poor girl, what is it with me an pets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:33:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 68,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21745318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivywoman63/pseuds/ivywoman63
Summary: Clarke Griffin thinks she has everything figured out. She lives with her boyfriend in a nice apartment in Philadelphia, and quit her part time job so she could concentrate on painting. Then one day it all goes down the shitter and she’s penniless and homeless.Fate finds her holed up in a vacant commercial space, where the previous tenant found lost pets. One thing leads to another and pretty soon Clarke and her bestie, Raven Reyes are the new Pet Investigators. Trouble is, neither one ever owned a pet.Lexa Woods is Philadelphia Magazine’s executive of the year. The only woman close to heart is her cherished grandmother, and when Gram’s prized bulldog mysteriously disappears, Lexa turns to the Pet Investigators. Love and hilarity ensue. I hope. I’m really not sure yet if hilarity will ensue. I will shoot for hilarity, but we may have to settle for a chuckle or two.
Relationships: Clarke Griffin/Lexa
Comments: 487
Kudos: 515





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I'm back. I know I've been away for a very long time. But I was busy. Busy doing what you ask? Well, as most of you know, I signed a contract to publish Clexa Goes to Hollywood. That's what I've been doing for almost two years. Working on that. And let me tell you, it took forever. You think you can write, and then you realized you can't. I had to fix a lot of shit. And delete a lot of words. Evidently, no one wants to read a romance that's almost 130,000 words. Just an FYI.  
> Anyway, I've missed you all, so I thought I would write some more drivel and post it on here. I have no clue where this story is headed. Seriously no clue. We'll just ride her 'til she bucks!  
> Find my Facebook page [here](https://www.facebook.com/lorig.matthews.71).  
> You can follow me if you want. I post updates about the book there.  
> tumblr [here](https://lorig11.tumblr.com/).  
> 

Chapter One

“I don’t know why you didn’t break up with him three months ago.”

“Rae, I didn’t know he was an asshole three months ago.”

“I guess you know now.”

“You think?”

The afternoon sun shined bright over Philadelphia as Clarke Griffin and Raven Reyes walked down Chestnut Street near Rittenhouse Square.

“Where is this place?” Clarke asked.

“Up here next to the Subway,” Raven said.

Both girls pulled to a stop in front of a tiny, shuttered storefront. A ratty, green awning hung over the doorway. Clarke peered into the tinted, plate glass window. She pressed her face close but still couldn’t see what was inside. 

A sign above the door read: “Pet Investigators. You Loose Them, We Find Them.” 

Clarke squinted at the sign, thinking she read it wrong. “Loose them? Loose?”

Raven shrugged. “Maybe it’s a joke. Like a pet joke or something.” Raven fussed with a large set of keys.

Clarke took a quick glance around to see if anyone was watching. “Is this even legal?” 

“The boss will never know. She sent me out here last week to get all the particulars for the listing. And since I’m the one in charge of the website, this will magically never get listed. Until you’ve moved out. Now, the apartment in the back of the office space is small, but it has a bathroom with a shower and a small kitchenette. It’ll be perfect for now. Nobody will notice you’re even here. Trust me.” She continued to flip through the myriad of keys, trying to find the right one.

“Last time you said nobody would notice was in high school when you cut my hair and tried to give me highlights. Only it turned red. Really red.” Clarke waved a hand in the air. “Trust me! Nobody will notice you said.”

“It was cool!”

“I looked like a clown. Like, a literal clown.”

“I thought it looked mod.”

“Really? Cause I kinda remember you shouting, ‘Here comes Ronald McDonald’ when I walked down the hallway.”

“I don’t think I said that.”

“You even cupped your hands around your mouth, like you always do. Which is so annoying...”

“I don’t always do that—”

“…and you yelled,” Clarke cupped her hands around her mouth, “step right up and get your Big Mac!”

“I don’t do that.”

“Yes, you do. You act like you’re the town crier.”

“Town crier? What are you from the 1800’s or something?”

Clarke cupped her hands again. “Get your Big Mac!”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You did.”

“I said Happy Meal.”

“Mmhmm.”

Raven found the correct key and unlocked the door. She stepped aside and ushered Clarke inside. “Welcome home.” 

Clarke hesitated. “I don’t have a good feeling about this. Are you sure it’s empty?”

“Yeah. Guy died or something.”

Clarke swallowed a sudden lump of fear in her throat. “Died? Oh God, not in the store I hope. I don’t need some _Sixth Sense_ moment.”

“Maybe he was arrested.”

“That’s a little different than died.”

“Died, arrested, who cares? He ain’t here anymore.” She walked into the office and pulled the For Sale/Lease sign out of the window.

She flicked on the light switch and nothing happened. “I thought I told them to turn the electricity back on. Minor detail.”

“Minor?”

“I’ll call them.”

“Who’s gonna pay the electric bill?”

“We will. All the utilities are always on in any property we list.”

Clarke’s nose wrinkled in disgust at the odor that permeated the room. It smelled like mold. And something else. Something akin to an old Italian hoagie that sat out in the sun for too long. A couple of desks were pushed together near the back wall, each with its own swivel office chair. A string of filing cabinets adorned the side wall, with drawers open. A sea of papers littered the floor. The gray walls were dingy, except for the bright, clean spots where pictures must have hung. The gray and black laminate flooring was peeling up in spots. 

The place needed a good thorough cleaning. Or it needed to be bombed. With Lysol. Did Lysol make a bomb? They should.

“It’s perfect,” Raven declared with a satisfied look.

“It’s disgusting.”

“C’mon, I’ll show you the back area.”

Clarke released a resigned sigh. “Can’t wait.”

They both walked around the debris and poked their heads into the doorway of the small apartment in the back of the space. A bare mattress with blankets piled on top lay in the corner.

“Are you sure nobody’s in here?” Clarke asked. “Because that bed looks slept in.”

“Nobody’s here. Don’t worry.”

A small bathroom with a shower stall was off to the left. Both gals peeked in.

“I’ve seen worse,” Raven said. She turned on the faucet and nodded when water gushed forth. “At least they turned the water back on.”

Clarke pointed at the back door. “I hope that locks.”

“It does, I checked. It leads into the alley out back. So, if Bruce Willis joins you, you can run out there and scream for help.”

Clarke’s face pinched with worry. “I’m gonna need a latch or something put on there before I sleep here.”

“Linc will do that.”

Clarke covered her face with her hands and moaned quietly.

Raven reached out and rubbed her back. “Relax. It won’t be for long. It’s just temporary, remember? Until you scrape together enough cash to get back on your feet.”

Clarke dropped her hands and looked toward the heavens. “Yeah, I know.”

Raven sighed as she looked at her best friend. “Clarke, I can loan you money.”

“No! I don’t like taking money from friends. It’s my problem and I’ll solve it.”

“Just stay on the couch at my place.”

“With Linc and O there, it’s just too small. Four people sharing a tiny bathroom is way too much.”

“What about your mom and dad?”

“They don’t have extra money laying around. They’re retired. And they’ll just tell me to move in with them. There’s no way I’d do that. Number one, it’s too hot in Florida, and number two, I’d be the youngest one in the neighborhood...by like thirty years. And then you know my mom will try and get me a job at that nursing home she volunteers at, cleaning bedpans or something. And dad will have me out in the garage every night helping him to invent the ‘next big thing.’ So, no way am I asking them for money.”

“You are stubborn as fuck.”

“That’s me.” Was she being too stubborn? Probably. Clarke picked up the blankets on the mattress and bit her bottom lip to stop it from quivering. How the hell did she get here?

**Two Days Earlier**

Clarke and Raven lounged in the living room of the apartment that Clarke shared with Finn.

Raven’s stomach gurgled and growled. “I’m starving, where’s the damn pizza?” 

“They’ll be here any minute.”

“Where’s Finn?”

“He’s working today.”

“Aren’t you ever curious how he can afford a fancy place like this?”

“I don’t ask him too many questions.”

Clarke glanced around at her surroundings. Finn rented a two-bedroom apartment at The Lofts on Arch Street. The high-rise building was in an upscale neighborhood. There was a huge eat-in kitchen that opened up into the living room, which was large enough for a sectional, a fifty-five-inch TV, and a dining table that could seat eight.

Yeah, the digs were nice. And yeah, it was peculiar that he could afford it. He was the assistant manager at Bryn Mawr Trust, a local bank on Lancaster Avenue, and while the pay was fair, realistically it shouldn’t be enough to cover the rent for a ritzy apartment in center city.

Clarke and Finn met six months before and hit it off. A few dinners during the week soon turned into weekends spent together. Then, three months ago Clarke’s rent-controlled apartment building was sold, and all the tenants were given sixty-day notices. Finn invited her to move in. And even though Clarke knew it was too soon for such a commitment, she was caught between the old rock and a hard place, so she did it. 

And it worked. For a few weeks. Then Finn started to make her stir-crazy, with his fussing and type A personality. Everything had to be perfect. Everything had a place. And Clarke was the exact opposite. She was a free spirit and believed things belonged where she dropped them. Something shouldn’t sit in the same spot day after day. Life was motion. So things should be in motion. 

But she was a slave to the circumstances. And the current circumstances dictated that she swallow her pride and take what was offered and put up with her slightly controlling boyfriend.

Being a struggling artist, well, more like a starving artist, she had no choice. 

Prior to moving in with Finn, she’d worked odd jobs just to pay the bills while she painted and hoped for her break. For the chance to hang her paintings in a gallery. Since moving in with him, he’d been nothing but supportive, insisting that she didn’t need to pay for anything, so she quit her three part-time jobs and painted. 

And the result of all her hard work from the past few months sat across the room on easels. Three paintings. Her best work to date. Every year, the Chestnut Art Gallery opened its doors to local artists, who could come in, with portfolios in hand, hoping to impress enough that the gallery would offer to show their work. These three paintings were hopefully her ticket to get her foot in the door.

“So they’re all done, right?” Raven asked, pointing at the paintings.

“Yep.”

“They’ll want them. They’re great.”

The doorbell to the apartment chimed.

Clarke’s brows drew together. “That’s weird. Usually I have to buzz them into the building.”

“Somebody was probably going out and let him in. I’ll get it.” Raven jumped up from the floor and peeked through the peephole. A gentleman on the other side of the door raised the pizza box. Raven’s lip curled in confusion. “Dude has a suit jacket on. What kinda pizza shop did you call.” She opened the door.

Three men pushed their way into the apartment. 

“Hey!” Raven hollered as one grabbed her by the arm and pushed her down onto the couch next to Clarke. The pizza was casually tossed on the coffee table.

“Who the hell are you?” Clarke demanded.

“Where’s Collins?” one of the men asked. His demeanor suggested he was large and in charge. The brains of the operation. Black hair was slicked back, and dark, beady eyes darted around the room. The other two must have been his henchmen. His muscle. One tall and lanky, the other short and slight of build.

“He’s not here,” Clarke answered.

The shifty dude leaned down and put his face inches from Clarke’s. “You sure?” 

His breath was garlicky, and Clarke turned her face away in disgust. “Yes.” 

He straightened, nodding at the other two. “Check the rest of the place.” 

They left to search the other rooms. 

“Look for the stash!” he called after them.

“What do you want?” Raven asked.

He snarled, “Shut it.” 

Noises could be heard echoing down the hallway, furniture being moved, drawers being tossed. Shifty went over and turned the volume up on the TV to drown out any sounds that might be heard by the neighbors.

Clarke’s heartbeat thundered inside her chest. She nervously nibbled on her bottom lip. “What the hell are they doing back there?”

She was met with silence.

The man’s suit jacket fell open and both women saw the gun holstered to his side. Raven bumped her leg into Clarke and they both exchanged a panicked look.

After a few minutes, the lanky one came back to the living room, shaking his head. “Nobody else here, Uncle Murph.”

Murphy rolled his eyes and sneered. “How many times have I told you not to use my name. Idiot.”

“Sorry...boss.” 

“Did you check everywhere? Closets?”

“Hey Monty! Check the closets!” the lanky dude called over his shoulder.

Murphy glared again. 

The other guy soon appeared. “Checked everything. Here Jasper, I found these.” He tossed Finn’s prized Ray-Bans across the room.

“Names you fucking idiots!” Murphy bellowed.

Clarke decided that the two “muscle men” didn’t look very muscle-y. In fact, dorky came to mind. Computer nerdy was actually the better description. The tall one was pale with a wispy mustache and soul patch, the shorter one was Asian-American and devoid of muscle tone.

Murphy turned to Clarke. “Where’s the money?”

“What money?”

“C’mon, Princess. The seventy-five grand.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Wait!” Raven shouted.

Everyone froze at her outburst.

“I know what this is. I know what this is!” She turned to Clarke and grinned wildly. “This is Punk’d. That show, right?” She looked toward Murphy. “We’re being Punk’d. Where’s the camera? Is it on you?” She studied Murphy’s suit jacket, looking for a hidden camera, smiling broadly at the lapel.

“This is not a TV show,” Murphy growled. 

“And he is not Ashton Kutcher,” Clarke observed.

Raven leaned into Clarke’s ear. “C’mon Clarke, look at these guys. You know you could take that skinny one. I could probably take shorty blindfolded.”

Both guys took umbrage. 

“You couldn’t take me.” 

“In your dreams.”

Clarke remained skeptical. “I don’t think we’re being Punk’d.”

Raven tuned her out. “Ha! I always wanted to Punk somebody.”

Monty frowned. “They think this is a joke.” 

“I bet O and Lincoln put them up to it.” Raven smiled into Murphy’s suit. “O and Linc, suck it! I’m on to you, bitches!”

“Who the fuck are O and Linc?” an exasperated Murphy asked.

Raven, lost in her newfound celebrity status, scrunched up her face in thought. “I bet it’s for my birthday.”

“Your birthday is three months away,” Clarke mumbled.

“Exactly. What better way to surprise somebody then to do something three months early. Genius!”

“They think we’re fooling around,” the one named Jasper lamented. “Nobody takes me seriously!”

“I take you seriously, buddy,” Monty crooned.

“Oh God,” Clarke whispered, “he has a complex.”

Jasper pulled out a small handgun and waved it around. Everyone in the room ducked. “Nobody ever takes me seriously!”

Clarke’s eyes widened. “Great. A complex and a gun.”

“Cool! Another gun.” Raven was enjoying her soon-to-be fifteen minutes of fame. “That thing looks real,” she observed.

“Put the fucking gun away,” Murphy said.

“I wanna be taken seriously!” Soul Patch whined.

Monty patted him on the arm. “Buddy, you’re the man. Now put down the gun.”

Jasper lowered the Smith and Wesson 9mm but not before discharging a shot, causing the group to flinch. The bullet struck one of Clarke’s paintings and embedded in the wall behind it.

“Oh, shit no! Not my painting!” Clarke wailed.

“I thought I told you to take the fucking bullets out!” Murphy shouted.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry,” Jasper said. He quickly put the gun in his waistband.

The gunshot sobered everyone.

After a beat, Raven asked, “Was that a rubber bullet? They use rubber bullets on TV shows. I read that somewhere.” 

Murphy blew out a loud breath. “Tie them up.”

“Yeah, tie us up, losers.” Raven smirked. “Hey O and Linc. Make sure I see this before it airs.” She turned to Clarke. “Does my hair look okay?” 

The men grabbed both girls and shoved them onto the dining room chairs. 

“Ow! Take it easy!” Raven muttered. 

Their hands were zip tied behind their backs, and their ankles tied together. 

Raven was impressed. “Zip ties? You guys are going the extra mile. Yo, O and Linc. I ate that last piece of meatloaf the other day,” Raven confessed into Murphy’s jacket. “I know I said I didn’t. But I did.” 

“Rae, this ain’t Punk’d,” Clarke said with a shake of her head.

“No?” She glanced around at the grim faces staring back at her. “Really?” Raven blew out a disappointed breath. Evidently her television premiere would have to wait. “Damn.”

Murphy came over and pulled a chair in front of Clarke, turned it backwards and sat down. “Let’s try this again. Where’s Collins?”

“I don’t know.”

“When’s he coming back?”

“I don’t know,” Clarke said, annoyance creeping into her voice.

Murphy stood, took out a knife and stepped up to one of Clarke’s paintings. He shredded it with a few quick strokes.

“No! You asshole!”

He came back and stood in front of Clarke. “Where’s the money?”

“I don’t know.”

“You’re his girl, I’ve seen you out with him.”

“He never told me about any money.”

Murphy sneered. “He said you were the brains of the operation.” 

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“He fucking lied. I don’t know anything about any of this.”

“She’s telling the truth, asshole,” Raven said.

Murphy started pacing around the room, and rubbed the back of his neck in agitation. His pacing took him back in front of Clarke and Raven. “All right. Since I’m in a good mood today this is what we’ll do. Tell Collins he’s got twenty-four hours to get the money. If he doesn’t, we’re gonna pay another visit.”

“What if he doesn’t come back?” Raven asked.

“Then I’ll start cutting off little pieces of Blondie here and mail them to his PO box.”

“He has a PO box?” Clarke asked.

Raven looked askance at Clarke. “Damn girl, did you know he had a PO box?”

“I had no idea.”

“Dude’s getting shadier by the minute,” Raven grumbled.

“I need to rethink this relationship.”

“Trudat, Clarkie.”

“Will you two shut up!” Murphy screamed. “You’ve got twenty-four hours.” He knifed the other paintings, leaving them in tatters. All three men headed to the door. Murphy turned back around. “And if you call the cops, we’ll know. We’ve got somebody on the inside. And we’ll come back and kill you.”

“Wait, you can’t leave us here tied up!” Raven called after them in a panic.

“Yes, we can. When we come back tomorrow, we start cutting.” 

As they left the apartment, their voices floated back down the corridor. “You’re not actually gonna cut off anything, are you Uncle Murph...”

His growling answer didn’t make it back to the girls.

Both women breathed a sigh of relief when they were left alone.

“Holy fucking shit. What the hell was that about?” Raven asked.

“I have no fucking clue,” Clarke said.

“I guess we know how Finn affords this place now. He’s running drugs or something. I mean, seventy-five grand?”

“Lying asshole.”

“I never liked him.”

“I know. I should have listened to you. Why didn’t I listen to you?”

Silence settled around the room.

Suddenly, Clarke thought of losing little pieces of herself and gasped, “We gotta get out of here.”

“Shit, yeah. Okay, let’s think. We’re both middle-aged adults. We can do this.” 

“Middle-aged? We’re twenty-eight.”

“You know I did one of those escape rooms with O and Linc a couple of weeks ago.” 

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Escape. We have to escape.”

“I thought escape rooms were more like brainteasers.”

“Minor detail,” Raven said. 

“And didn’t you post on Facebook that you guys needed to be let out. Like you never figured out how to escape, and they had to come get you.”

“Actually, they forgot about us. Usually they let you out after an hour, but we were stuck in there for three. I think the staff went on break or something.”

“I seem to remember you calling me, and yelling ‘Phone-a-Friend!’ Thinking I could come let you out. And that you were on _Who Wants to Be a Millionaire_.”

“Three hours was a long time. All we had was half a Clif Bar. We split it three ways and took a nibble every few minutes, to keep up our energy.”

“You posted a picture of you guys eating pizza while you were in there.”

“That was the first hour, Clarke. After that we had nothing. Nothing but a Clif Bar and water. Oh, and Octavia had a bag of M&M’s in her purse. And that was it.”

“So, you had a Clif Bar, pizza, water and M&M’s?”

“And a bag of chips.”

“A Clif Bar, pizza, M&M’s, chips, and water. For three hours.”

Raven grimaced. “Yes. We could’ve starved to death.”

“What did you do while you waited, besides eat like pigs?”

“We watched Punk’d on our phones.” 

They both fell silent again.

“The pizza cutter!” Raven shouted.

Both looked at Finn’s prized Pampered Chef pizza cutter sitting on the coffee table.

“If we just scooch our way over there, we can cut ourselves loose.”

“Scooch, how?” Clarke asked.

“Like this.” Raven began using her feet to propel the chair and herself across the room.

“Careful! You’re scratching the floors.”

Raven looked at the small scratches caused by the legs of the chair. “Why don’t you have felt on the bottom of these for God’s sake?”

“Because I never drag them across the floor.”

“Well, I’m getting you felt next time I go to the dollar store.”

“I don’t need felt.” 

“It’s a fucking dollar, Clarke.” Raven carefully continued her journey across the room. “Wait! Why do we care if we scratch his floors? He’s an asshole!” She began to really dig the chair legs into the floor, leaving deep jagged grooves along the way.

“You’re right,” Clarke said. “Brains of the operation. I’ll give him brains of the operation.” And she also scraped her chair across Finn’s prized hardwood floors.

When they made it to the coffee table, Raven shifted her chair around so that she could grab the pizza cutter. “Here, I’ll try and cut yours off.”

“Okay.” Clarke bounced in her chair and presented her hands to Raven’s. “Don’t cut my hand off.”

“I won’t. Trust me.” Raven carefully started sawing away at the zip ties around Clarke’s wrists. After a couple of minutes of painstaking back and forth, the ties broke open. 

“Good job!” Clarke grabbed the pizza cutter and cut Raven’s hands and feet loose, then did her own feet.

They both jumped up.

Raven opened the pizza and took out a slice. “We gotta get out of here,” she said between bites. “You can’t come back. Grab your shit and let’s go.”

Clarke ran back to the bedroom and stopped short. The drawers and their contents were strewn around the room. The mattress had been cut, along with all the pillows. 

“Holy shit.” She grabbed the few belongings she had and shoved them in a bag. She pulled down all her paintings that they had hung when she moved in. Thank God the rest were in storage. When she ran back down the hallway, she paused at the door to Finn’s office. His papers were everywhere.

Raven stood in the middle of it all and was paging through the debris. “Hey Clarkie, why do you have a credit card bill for $23,000?”

What?” Clarke yelped.

“This statement has your name on it.” She showed the paper to Clarke. “It looks like a bunch of gambling sites.”

“That mother fucker! Give me that.” She grabbed the statement and studied it. There was her name and all sorts of charges listed. He somehow opened an account in her name. She dropped a few F bombs and shoved it into her bag. “I’m calling and telling them they’re bogus charges.”

“You can’t. He’s been making the minimum payments every month.”

“God damn it! I’ll kill him!”

“Let’s get the hell out of here.” Raven grabbed one of Clarke’s bags and started for the door but stopped short. She reached down and grabbed the pizza. No reason to let a perfectly good pepperoni and mushroom pizza go to waste. Then she spotted Finn’s favorite bean bag chair. “We’re taking the bean bag!”

Clarke stood in front of her ruined paintings, eyes puddling up. “All my hard work. Ruined.” Maybe she could recreate them. She folded up the easels, packed up the paints and brushes and slung the carrying case over her shoulder. With one last look around the room, she headed out the door, arms overflowing with her meager possessions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no funny note for you today. My travels recently have been uneventful. I just got back from Florida via Frontier Air, and I prayed for chaos. For something crazy to happen. But they've been good lately. Fuckers. I need material!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you go. I'm going to try and get chapters up at least once a month. Let's see what else? How about we check in with our dear friend E from Sleepless. As you all may or may not remember, she is my baby gay. We met during the latter part of Clexa Goes to Hollywood. She was sticking her toe into the water of gayness at the time, and we struck up a friendship at first thru the comments, and then on the tumblr. And then we graduated to Facebook messenger, and then phone calls. A normal progression in terms of friendships I would say. Since I have quite a few years on her, I always looked upon her as my baby gay. She was living on the coast of Washington, with no gayness in sight, as far as other LGBTQ peeps. Then she moved back to Seattle where there is lots of gayness, but she was extremely hesitant to explore said gayness. So for a couple years, it was a push pull thing with us, me trying to encourage her to explore the gayness, her being afraid to try. (Coming out to her family was a huge scary deal, which was understandable for the situation.) Let's fast forward to today, shall we? E came out to her family last year, she's hanging with other LGBTQ peeps, and is dating! Sniffle. My baby gay. All grown up. Very proud of her. And in honor of her personal bravery, and the fact that it's Throwback Thursday, we celebrate with a picture of our lovable Dufus!  
> As per usual, tumble me [here](https://lorig11.tumblr.com/).  
> Find my Facebook page [here](https://www.facebook.com/lorig.matthews.71).  
> 

Chapter Two

“Gram?” Lexa Woods called out. “It’s just me.”

Philadelphia Magazine’s thirty-one-year-old executive of the year closed the front door of the estate home in Gladwyne, a suburb just west of center city Philadelphia. The area was part of the prestigious Main Line, a string of suburban towns that had sprung up along the historic Pennsylvania Railroad’s “main line” in the 19th century. The train ran along Lancaster Avenue, taking the well-to-do from their city homes out to their large, country homes twelve miles away. Not only was it one of the wealthiest zip codes in Pennsylvania, it was one of the wealthiest in the country.

“Gram?” she called again.

“Back in the kitchen, dear!”

Lexa leaned down to give an affectionate rub on the head of her Gram’s prized English Bulldog, Caesar. “Hey buddy.” The big, burly dog licked her pant leg and left a line of slobber on the thigh of her light gray slacks. She grabbed a tissue from a side table in the foyer and dabbed at the sticky saliva. “Thanks for that, Mr. Slobberpuss. I just had these cleaned.” 

She breezed through the formal living room with its heavy, antique furnishings and nine-foot ceilings crowned in delicately carved moldings, cruised past the sweeping staircase rimmed by a hand-crafted iron railing , followed the oriental runners down the long hallway, eventually reaching her destination, the expansive kitchen situated at the back of the house. Natural light filtered in through the bank of windows, bathing everything in soft yellows and reds, making it one of the brightest rooms in the house.

Gram and her partner, Lila, sat at a small table on the sunporch just off the kitchen, pouring over the daily crossword puzzle.

“How’s my favorite granddaughter?” Seventy-eight-year-old Catherine Woods possessed the same emerald green eyes as her granddaughter. Those eyes were still bright and sharp, and her frail, slender build belied a steely strength within.

A daughter of a dock worker from south Philadelphia, she had the audacity to catch the eye of shipping magnate Thomas Woods the summer after her eighteenth birthday. The match was frowned upon by the family and social elites of the city, but Catherine and Thomas would not be cowed. The pair eloped to New York City to escape the wrath of the Woods family, who were eventually won over by the grace and charm of young Catherine.

Lexa leaned down and kissed her. “I’m your only granddaughter.” She kissed Lila also. “Good morning, Lila.”

“Good morning,” she beamed back. Lila’s frame carried a bit more weight than Catherine, and her short-cropped gray hair accentuated her rosy, plump cheeks. “What’s a three-letter old English word meaning ‘before’?”

“Ere. E, r, e.”

Lila nodded and filled it in.

“Well, even if I did have any other grandchildren, you would be my favorite.” Gram winked. Caesar plopped onto the floor next to her, anticipating some morsels from his mistress.

Lexa took a seat and placed a napkin in her lap. Breakfast on Saturday mornings was their weekly ritual. “How are you two lovely ladies this morning?”

“We’re fine. Lila has a hair appointment later.”

“Do you need me to take you?” Lexa asked.

“No dear.”

Lila smiled. “We’re taking an Uber,” she said proudly.

Lexa raised her brows. “You’re taking an Uber?”

“We like adventure!” Lila crowed.

Lexa sighed. “Just be careful.”

Margaret, Gram’s housekeeper and cook shuffled into the sunroom. “Good morning Miss Lexa, what would you like for breakfast today?” She poured coffee into the cup in front of Lexa.

“Good morning. I’ll have an egg white omelet with tomatoes and cheese.”

“Very good, my dear.” Margaret nodded and headed back into the kitchen. Margaret had been with Gram for over thirty years and was more friend than employee at this point. Always affable, always having a smile on her face, she was a welcome sight every Saturday morning.

Gram lowered her chin and peeked over the readers that perched on the end of her nose. “Why are you so dressed up?”

Lexa glanced down at her pressed pants and white-collared dress shirt. “This isn’t dressed up.”

“You really need to let your hair down occasionally, my dear. Literally and figuratively speaking.”

Lexa patted her up-do. She had swept it up off her neck before she left her apartment. She either wore it up or braided and tied back, because wearing it down was too much trouble. “What’s wrong with my hair and my clothes?”

“You always look like you’re heading into a business meeting.”

Lexa huffed slightly. This was also part of their ritual, Gram trying to loosen her up. “This is my casual outfit.”

“Jeans are casual, Rexi.” Gram used her favorite nickname for her favorite grandchild. 

“You know I rarely wear jeans.”

“Always the executive, Lila. Our little T-Rexi is always dressed to impress.”

Lexa chuckled at the nickname. When she was a toddler, she loved dinosaurs, and T-Rex was her favorite. She’d run around the house with her arms in the air, growling and making general dinosaur noises. Her mom and Gram would chase her around, and Lexa would jump out from behind furniture and doors, trying to scare them. Usually, one or both would comically drop to the floor and beg for mercy from T-Rexi, the most ferocious dinosaur on the planet. 

Those fun, carefree years didn’t last long, however. Her mother died when Lexa was seven, and the mood in the house changed dramatically afterwards. Her father became all business, working longer and longer hours, and for the next few years, left Lexa to be raised by her Gram and Margaret.

When she was ten, her father seemed to pull himself out of his malaise and brought Lexa into Wood’s Enterprises. She fetched files and coffee, sorted mail and learned rudimentary accounting principles. By the time she graduated high school and headed to Yale University, she had a solid grasp on the family business.

“Next time I’ll wear jeans,” Lexa said. 

“Promise?”

Lexa made a show of being perturbed, but her Gram knew she was kidding. “Yes, I promise.”

“Good. How’s your love life?”

Lexa groaned. Part two of their ritual. “You ask me this every week. My love life is non-existent. By choice.”

“I hate to see you alone.”

“I love being alone.”

“You need somebody to share your life with. I would be lonely without my dear Lila.” Gram grasped Lila’s hand in her own and kissed it.

“You’re lucky to have found each other,” Lexa mused.

Lila was originally hired as a companion after Lexa’s grandfather had passed ten years before. Lexa felt her Gram needed someone to keep her occupied, fearing if left alone, she might sink into depression or become a shut-in. A companion could take her shopping, watch TV, play cards and do puzzles with her.

After an exhaustive search for just the right person, Lila burst into their lives. And then Gram surprised everyone five years ago when she declared that Lila had become more than a friend. Soon after, she moved in and the rest was history.

“You need to fall in love,” Gram said. “You should get back on the wagon.”

Lexa gently scoffed. “Love is weakness. And I’m not getting back on _that_ wagon.”

“Take it from your bisexual grandmother. Love is grand.” She kissed Lila on the cheek. They were like a couple of lovesick teenagers after five years together. Which was endearing.

“You do love to call yourself bisexual, don’t you?” Lexa buttered a croissant and popped it into her mouth.

“I’m gender fluid. Or is it sexually fluid?”

Green eyes twinkled back at her. “Yes, one of those I’m sure.”

“I’m on a spectrum, is that it?”

“You’re on some spectrum.”

Gram placed her fork on the table. “Now listen, I know Costia hurt you—”

Lexa raised a hand to interrupt. “She did more than hurt me.” Even though it had been four years, the thought of Costia still pricked at her soul. It was a tiny seeping wound that refused to scab. “I won’t let that happen again. Women can’t be trusted.”

Gram clucked her tongue in disapproval. “Don’t make a blanket statement like that. _She_ couldn’t be trusted. Not everyone is like that.” She reached down and fed Caesar some breakfast potatoes. “Just be thankful you found out who she really was before the wedding.”

Now there was something they could agree on. She almost made the biggest mistake of her life, marrying a gold digger who saw nothing but dollar signs when she looked at Lexa.

They had been together for two years before Lexa foolishly proposed. Gay marriage had become legal, and Lexa had gotten swept away by the historical moment. Costia was beautiful and witty, and seemed to worship at the altar that was Lexa Woods. But it was all a charade. 

A month before the wedding Lexa caught her in bed with another woman. She had returned early from a business trip and wanted to surprise her fiancé, but when she walked into the apartment, there was Costia, naked and writhing in another woman’s arms. In Lexa’s California King. And it wasn’t just any other woman. It was Costia’s ex. 

A shouting match ensued and Costia made sure that Lexa knew the only reason she was with her was for the things Lexa could buy, and it cut Lexa to the bone. She swore off women. She swore off falling in love.

That was a while ago and she was still going strong with her resolve. Occasional one-night stands peppered throughout the years was all she needed. Lexa locked away her heart and it would stay that way forever. No more love. No more being made a fool of. She didn’t need it. She didn’t want it.

“How about we change the subject,” Lexa suggested. 

Margaret appeared with plates filled with food. The perfect distraction. She took the seat next to Lila. “You work too hard, Miss Lexa,” Margaret said.

Lexa took a sip of coffee before answering. Sometimes Saturday mornings could be challenging, with all three older women ganging up on her. “I love working.” 

“When was the last time you did something fun?” Gram asked.

“Define fun.”

“Not working.”

She had Lexa on that one. Working seventy to eighty hours a week was the norm for her. “I went to Chicago last month,” she said.

Gram shook her head. “That was a work meeting with your father.”

“I went a day early.”

“And what did you do?” Gram fed Caesar her bacon.

“I...ah...worked.”

“See? You need to have fun. You’re gonna work yourself to death.”

Lexa sighed. “I’m fine. Work is fun for me. Margaret, the omelet is delicious as usual. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Did you find anyone to replace Ontari yet?” Lexa asked.

“Ugh. That girl was horrible. Who hired her?”

Lexa gave a slight shake of her head. “You did. Next time please let me screen anybody you want to hire.”

“I did not like her,” Lila declared.

“She barely showed up for work.” Gram dropped a piece of toast on the floor and it was gobbled up immediately. “And I don’t think Caesar liked her. He never seemed happy when he came back from his walks.”

Lexa gazed down at the large, goofy canine. “He does have the life. All he has to do is make babies. When is he getting bred again?”

“I found a perfect bitch in New York for him. We’re going up next weekend to introduce the two of them to make sure they’re a good match.”

Lexa leaned back in her chair and chuckled. “Ah, the life of a pampered dog.”

* * *

A few days later Clarke, Raven, Octavia and Lincoln were cleaning up the new apartment. After a couple of hours of hard work, they ordered takeout. Clarke and Raven sat at the desks eating veggie wraps from the Subway next door. Octavia sat on the floor with her back against the wall eating a salad.

Some of Clarke’s paintings now adorned the walls of the outer office, but papers were still scattered all over the floor. They would clean up that mess after lunch. Clarke hummed as she ate, and Raven paged through a recent copy of Philadelphia Magazine that was left behind from the previous occupant. 

“Fuck. This chick is a total babe.” She showed the cover to Clarke and O. “Why can’t I meet someone like that?”

Clarke studied the woman. She was beautiful, with long wavy brunette hair and piercing green eyes. The cut of her Gucci suit accentuated her strong, slender build. A slight amused smile played around her full, lush lips. “Cause she’s totally out of your league. Besides, she looks uptight.”

“Uptight?” Raven spun the magazine back to take a better look. 

“Yeah, like she’d eat her children or something,” O said.

“She could eat me. I wouldn’t mind.” Raven wiggled her eyebrows.

Clarke giggled. “Aren’t you all hot and bothered over your boss? Isn’t she the crush of the month?”

“My boss is gorgeous.”

“And also totally out of your league,” O pointed out. “No matter how much coffee you fetch her, no matter how many times you pick up her dry cleaning, she’ll always think of you as just her admin.”

“A girl can dream,” Raven mused as she finished her wrap. “Maybe you should try a chick, Clarke. Guys are dicks.”

“Not all guys are dicks,” Clarke said. “And I’ve never been attracted to a woman.”

“You kissed a girl in high school,” Raven said.

“You kissed a girl?” O asked.

“That was a drinking game dare.”

Raven smirked. “You said it was good.”

Clarke thought back to that moment. It _was_ good. Better than expected. She actually thought about that kiss for a few weeks afterwards. But Chrissy Garner was the most beautiful girl in school, that’s why the kiss resonated. At least that’s what Clarke told herself at the time. “Only because it was Chrissy Garner.”

“She was hot. I did more than kiss her,” Raven said matter-of-factly.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“When?” Clarke asked.

“After the homecoming game.”

“Get out! Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“I dunno.”

Clarke became thoughtful. “Now that I think about it, you were in a good mood that weekend.”

“Screwing the head cheerleader does that to a person. Have you heard anything else from Finn yet?”

“No. Not since yesterday.” Clarke had repeatedly texted Finn, asking what was going on, and telling him that his apartment was trashed by goons, and oh-by-the way he owed her twenty-three thousand dollars. He finally replied and was apologetic, saying that he’d be back in town soon and he would take care of everything. Even promised to pay her back. She wouldn’t hold her breath on that one.

Linc came out of the back room. “Okay, door latches installed. You should be good now. Nobody’s getting in that door.”

O stood and threw her salad container into a trash bag. “We have to go. Linc has to get to the restaurant.” She hugged both Raven and Clarke. “Be safe.”

Linc hugged them goodbye also. “You ready for tomorrow, Clarke?”

“Yep. And thanks again for getting me a job.” Clarke squeezed him affectionately.

“No worries,” Linc said. “It’s just lunch deliveries, but at least it’s something. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Lincoln was a sous chef at a popular eatery at Rittenhouse Square, and they offered free deliveries to many of the office buildings in the area. All Clarke had to do was ride a bike and deliver lunches. And hopefully make a lot of tips.

“Have you heard from Finn’s sister?” Raven asked after they were left alone.

“Ontari? No. Why would I wanna talk to her anyway? She’s an ass.”

“True. But maybe he’s staying with her.”

“I don’t know, and I don’t care.”

They were both startled by the electronic chime that signaled the opening of the front door.

An tall, attractive woman with curly auburn hair poked her head in the door. “Knock, knock.”

Raven immediately perked up. “Uh, hello?”

“I’m Lieutenant Rivers from Philadelphia PD.” Reaching into the breast pocket of her stylish suit jacket, she flashed a badge.

Clarke’s stomach dropped and her throat constricted in fear. The mouthful of iced tea she just swigged threatened to spew forth from her mouth. Did Raven’s boss find out she was here and called the damn cops? Was she about to be homeless twice in the same week? And arrested? _Orange is the New Black_ popped into her head. Oh, God. She never looked good in orange.

Raven shot to her feet and approached the woman. “Um, can we help you Lieutenant?”

“I thought this place was closed. I saw the lights on and thought I’d check it out. Did you guys just move in?”

“Yes,” they both replied.

Lt. Rivers slowly canvassed the room. “Did you know the previous owner?”

“Yes.” “No,” they answered simultaneously. 

The Lieutenant’s eyebrows rose. “Which is it?”

A panicked Clarke pointed at Raven. “Ah, she knew him, I didn’t.” 

Raven turned and glared, then turned back to the officer and smiled. “I guess I knew him.” 

“So are you taking over the business from him?”

Raven bobbed her head. “Yes. Exactly. We’re taking over the business. From my cousin....” she paused. “Vinnie. My cousin...Vinnie.”

“You mean Joey.”

“Yeah. Joey. Vinnie. Or, Joseph Vincent, which is...what his mom called him. Or sometimes she’d call him JV for short. The rest of us just called him...Vinnie. Because his dad’s name was Joey...”

Clarke stared in awe as Raven dug herself into a deeper hole. 

“...and we needed to differentiate between the two of them. Otherwise, we’d just yell, ‘Hey Joey,’ and they would both answer. Which was way too confusing for his dad. Who was senile.”

Lieutenant River’s head was cocked to one side during Raven’s long-winded explanation. “So, Joey, the Snake, Cippone was your cousin?”

Raven didn’t move a muscle, but her eyes blew wide. “He never brought up the snake part at Thanksgiving.”

With thumbs hooked in her belt, the officer rocked back on her heels. “Wasn’t he arrested for armed robbery?”

Raven’s eyes remained wide and unblinking. She was in deep Improv Mode. “He was a very distant cousin. By marriage. I think he came to Thanksgiving once. He stole the turkey and wasn’t invited back.”

Clarke swallowed the very large lump in her throat. Maybe they had something other than orange in the slammer. She could work with beige. Maybe accessorize with some bling.

“Huh. That’s quite a tale.” The Lieutenant glanced between the two of them. After a few agonizing seconds, she said, “Well, here’s my card. If you ever need anything or see anybody suspicious, give me a call.” She handed Raven her business card.

Raven’s chest heaved with relief as she grabbed the card. With a sweet smile, she said, “Thank you,” she peeked at the card, “Lieutenant Luna Rivers. Wow. Luna. What a beautiful name. And anytime you’re in the neighborhood, feel free to stop in and say hi.” She reached out and touched the officer’s arm. Her eyelashes fluttered and her chin dipped down.

And just like that, her bestie was in goddamn full-blown flirt mode. Clarke silently groaned.

After the Lieutenant left, Raven spun around, and with much drama wiped imaginary sweat from her forehead before collapsing back into her swivel chair. “Whew! That was a close call. And damn she was hot.”

“I can’t believe you flirted with her. She could’ve arrested us for trespassing!”

“She can arrest me anytime.” Raven cupped a hand to her mouth. “Body search please!”

“You’re an idiot. And my cousin Vinnie? Really?”

“I had to think on my feet, there, Clarkie. It was the first thing that popped into my brain.”

There was a knock on the glass front door and both girls jolted in surprise.

“Jesus Christ, she’s coming back with handcuffs,” Clarke ducked low in her chair, as if simply ducking would save her from life without parole in an orange jumpsuit.

When the door opened, a frail old woman with blue hair and an oversized black pocketbook stood in the doorway. “Is this the pet finders?” she asked.

Clarke sat up and frowned. “No.”

Raven, never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, quickly spoke up. “Ah, maybe?”

The woman walked to the middle of the room. “My cat Jonesy is stuck in a tree and I need someone to get him down,” she said. “I can pay twenty bucks.” She waved a twenty dollar bill in the air.

“Oh. Well. Sure, we can help with that.” Raven stole a quick glance at Clarke.

Clarke shook her head. “I don’t know anything about cats.”

Raven held up a finger. “Can you give us a minute?” She swirled both their chairs around, so they were facing the back wall. She leaned close to Clarke’s ear. “What are you doing?” she whispered.

“I don’t know anything about animals. I’ve never had a pet in my life,” Clarke whispered back.

“You won a hermit crab at the beach that summer.”

“He only lived two days.”

Raven quietly huffed. “Aren’t you broke?”

“Yes.”

“Well.”

“I can’t get a cat out of a tree.”

“C’mon. It’s twenty bucks. How hard can it be?” She swirled them back to face the woman. “Okay. We can help you.”

All three women walked down the street a few blocks, turned left, then walked a few more blocks.

“Jesus, where’s this cat, New Jersey?” Clarke groused.

Raven nudged her shoulder into Clarke’s. “Pipe down. It’s twenty bucks.”

“I don’t have a good feeling about this.”

Finally, after ten minutes of walking, the woman turned into a small park in the middle of the city block. “There.” She pointed at a rotund, orange tabby, howling from his perch twenty feet up.

Clarke craned her neck to check out the treed feline. “Shit. I’m not going up there.”

“I’ll boost you, c’mon.” Raven cupped her hands and nodded at Clarke. “Go.”

“Uh-uh. You go up.”

“I never had pets either.”

“You had a goldfish senior year.”

“Yeah, and I left his bowl on the radiator thinking he’d be warmer. You know how that turned out. Poor Goldie was fins up by morning. Now, c’mon. You’ll be fine. You work out. Get up there.”

“I don’t work out.”

* * *

“I can’t believe you made me climb a tree.” Clarke sat patiently at her desk while Raven dabbed at the wounds on her face. “Is it bad?”

“Nah. Just a few minor cuts.”

“Why didn’t you tell me cats had sharp claws?”

“I had no clue. I had a goldfish for fuck’s sake,” Raven said.

“That cat was really mad.”

“He spat at you.”

“Then he latched onto my face.”

“I know. It was like _Alien_. Minus Sigourney Weaver.” Raven dabbed a healthy amount of antibacterial ointment on the three scratches that were on Clarke’s face. “There. I think you’re good.”

Clarke pulled a compact mirror out of her bag and looked at her face. “Shit. That’s gonna scar.”

“I don’t think so. They’ll heal. Just think, you’re twenty dollars richer.”

“I just spent twenty-five dollars on a first aid kit and vitamin E.” Clarke turned her head to get a better look at the one on her left cheek. “Isn’t that a lot of ointment?” It looked like a huge, clear, greasy caterpillar. “God. I look frightful.” Clarke still had leaves and sticks in her hair and dirt on her face. She also had a nice rip in her jeans. “I look like I was pulled from the bushes.”

“You were. You just fell right into that hedge. Thank God the cat was all right.”

“Hey!”

“Hey what? That was a twenty dollar cat.”

“Who cost me five dollars.”

“Minor detail.”

The door chimed and both women stopped talking and stared at the tall drink of water that entered. The lithe brunette was dressed in black dress slacks and a button-down lavender blouse. Her long hair was braided and hung past her shoulder blades.

Raven mewled like a kitten. Here was the magazine cover come to life.

The woman took in the mess surrounding her, and a lip curled up slightly. Her distaste was evident. “Is this the pet finder place?” 

Clarke flinched. One pet fiasco was enough for today. “No, we’re not…”

“Ah, yeah.” Raven kicked Clarke in the shin, who winced slightly.

“Ow.” Clarke rubbed her new bruise and glared at Raven.

Raven shifted her eyes down to call attention to the magazine cover on the desk. She subtly rubbed her thumb and index finger together, to signify money. Looking back at the woman in front of her, she explained, “We were in the process of cleaning up.”

Clarke looked at the magazine, then back at the brunette. Recognition registered on her face, then the wheels started turning. Surely this would be worth more than twenty dollars. This woman’s socks were probably worth more. “Yeah. We just moved in.” 

“You just moved in? Then you’re not the pet finders?”

“No, no. We’re pet finders. We find pets,” Raven said. 

Since they were already in the red on their first day, Clarke was totally on board. “No job too big or too small...ah, animal, no animal too big or too small. We’ll find them.”

“So you’re taking over the business?”

Raven nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, exactly.”

“What happened to the previous owner?”

“He died.” “He retired,” both girls said simultaneously. Raven and Clarke looked at each other, then looked back at the brunette. “He retired.” “He died.” They exchanged another look, and Clarke scowled slightly.

“He retired, then he died,” Raven clarified.

An eyebrow above an emerald green eye quirked up. “Okay. I guess. My name is Lexa Woods and I have a missing dog.”

“I’m Raven, and this is Clarke. So you lost a dog. That’s great!” Raven enthusiastically slapped the desk. “Good for you. Well, maybe not good that you lost a dog, but good that you found us.”

“You lose them, we find them!” Clarke blurted out.

Lexa pointed out the front door. “Your sign says loose.”

“Yes, that was the previous owner,” Clarke explained.

“Not a real stickler for spelling,” Raven said.

“We’re gonna change it soon,” Clarke said.

“We were waiting, out of...deference...for...the dead,” Raven stammered.

Lexa studied the two women in front of her. The brunette, Raven, was pretty. However, the blonde looked like Pig Pen from _The Peanuts_. When was the last time she washed her face? Or took a shower? And was that an oak leaf in her hair? 

“Here, let’s get you a seat.” Raven rose and looked around the room. Not seeing another chair, she hustled in the back and returned with a lime-green bean bag chair. She placed it on the ground in front of the desks, fluffing it to make it appear taller. She swept a hand over the chair. “Take a load off.”

Lexa glanced down at the bean bag chair. She hadn’t sat in one of these since she was a child. Well, Gram did say to let her hair down. This was clearly one of those _let your hair down_ moments. She gingerly slid into it and immediately sunk down, down, down, to the ground, well below the desk line, completely losing sight of the two women.

Clarke and Raven raised their chins and watched as the brunette disappeared from view.

Clarke realized how ridiculous the whole scene must seem to this possible new customer. Who had money. “That can’t be comfortable. Here, let’s switch.” She rolled her swivel chair around to the front of the desk and gave a hand up to the brunette. 

A flash of gratitude appeared briefly in her green eyes as they switched places. Before sitting in the chair, Lexa gave the seat a quick wipe with her hand.

Now Raven felt awkward, because Clarke was nowhere to be seen, having been enveloped in a puddle of pea green foam. She rolled her chair next to her desk so she could see everyone. “Let’s get some information, shall we?” Raven said. “Woods you said?”

“Yes, Lexa Woods.”

Raven made a show of writing down the name on a blank pad in front of her. “Miss Woods, what dog did you lose?”

“It’s not mine. It’s my grandmother’s. He’s a prized English Bulldog.”

Clarke tried to appear business-like in her bean bag. She put her chin in her hand, but her elbow just sank deeper into the beans. She sat up straighter and brushed the fabric instead, wiping an imaginary piece of dirt off. “Oh, a bulldog. They are a prize.”

“We’re anxious to find him. He’s an award-winning dog.”

“Wow. Like he won a trophy or something?” Raven asked.

“Yes, he’s won best in show a few times.”

“ _Best in Show_. I loved that movie,” Clarke said.

Raven grinned at her bestie. “Me too. So funny.” 

“We both like peas…”

“We can talk, or not talk, for hours.” Raven and Clarke giggled as they quoted from one of their favorite movies.

Lexa cleared her throat.

Raven snapped back to attention. “Sorry. Back to your pit bull.”

“Bulldog.”

“That’s what I said.”

“You said...never mind. He’s a stud.”

Clarke grinned stupidly. “I bet. Most males think they’re studs. Right?”

“Guys think they’re all that and a bag of chips. Thank God I don’t go there if you know what I mean.” Raven smiled coquettishly. Might as well let it be known that she was available. If the brunette was so inclined.

“No, I mean he’s an intact male.” Lexa tried to give a knowing look that passed right over Clarke and Raven.

Raven squinted. “A tact tail?”

“Interact what?” Clarke asked.

“An intact male.”

A confused Clarke tried to sort it out. “As opposed to...a...not intact...”

Raven’s brows creased. “Does that mean he has his—you know—or he doesn’t have his—”

“What?” Lexa assumed both would know a dog’s anatomy. Never assume. One of the many lessons learned from her father.

“How do they pee?” Raven asked quietly. “Like, when they cut it off…”

Lexa blew out an exasperated breath. “His testicles. I’m talking about his testicles. He’s not fixed. He’s intact. He still has his testicles.”

Raven’s face lit up with understanding. “Ooohhh. He still has his balls. I gotcha.” 

Clarke was still swimming in a sea of confusion. “What?”

Raven cupped her hands and moved them up and down. “The dog still has his balls. You know, his balls. That’s why he’s a stud. Balls.” 

Clarke’s eyes widened. “Oh, his, he still has his, oh. Okay. Now I’m with you.”

Lexa crossed her legs and prayed for patience. “I’m talking about breeding. He’s a stud. We breed him. He gets a stud fee. He’s registered with the AKC—”

“You sell his puppies?” Raven asked.

“Well, not all of them. He usually gets the stud fee and the pick of the litter. So we’ll sell one puppy.”

Raven tapped the pencil’s eraser against her chin. “I see...aren’t puppies like twenty bucks at the pet store?”

Clarke thoughtfully pursed her lips. “I thought they were like, fifty.” 

“Oh, fifty? Yeah. That’s different.”

“His puppies sell for $5,000.”

“Wha, what now?” Raven asked.

“Each?” Clarke shrieked.

“Yes. He’s worth a lot of money.”

Clarke closed her mouth, which had dropped open in surprise. “Ah. No wonder you want him back. He’s like a gravy train, amirite?”

Lexa stared at Clarke. Or rather she stared at the small inchworm hanging above her ear. “He’s also a wonderful animal. My grandmother is very attached.”

“Of course.” 

“So what do you charge?” Lexa asked. 

Clarke was ready to say twenty bucks, but before the words came out Raven interjected. “One hundred a day. Plus expenses.”

Clarke’s eyebrows disappeared into her hairline. That was an excessive number.

Lexa didn’t even bat an eye. “Okay. When can you start?”

Damn, Clarke thought, they probably left money on the table.

Raven scratched down a few more notes on the pad. “We can start tomorrow. We’ll need to come out to your grandmother’s house to assess the situation.”

“Understood.”

“Here, write down your address.” Raven gave her notepad a hard shove to slide it down to Lexa, like one would slide a beer down a bar.

Only Lexa double clutched and missed, and the notepad landed on the floor. She sighed and bent over to pick it up.

“What’s the dog’s name?” Raven asked.

“Caesar.”

“Caesar. Wow. That’s regal.”

“What a great name for a dog,” Clarke agreed.

“We’ll be needing a picture of the dog in question.”

“Of Caesar,” Clarke explained.

“Of course. I can get you one tomorrow when you come to the house. Does six o’clock work?” Lexa put the pencil down and, after a slight pause, sailed the pad back over to Raven.

“That’s fine.” Raven caught the pad and jotted down the appointment time.

“What happened to your face?” Lexa asked Clarke. She had to know. How does one get an inchworm in their hair?

Clarke self-consciously raised a finger to the cuts on her cheeks. When she pulled her finger down, it was covered in ointment. She inconspicuously wiped it on her jeans.

“Cat mishap,” Raven explained. “There was a tree, and a hedge, and the sidewalk. But that’s just us going above and beyond to find people’s pets. When did your grandmother lose her shepherd?”

Lexa ignored the shepherd comment. This conversation was becoming exhausting. “A couple of days ago. The dog was outside and then he went missing. He never goes far, so I’m a little suspicious.”

“Suspicious?” Clarke asked.

Raven leaned forward. “Are we talking foul play?”

Lexa shifted uncomfortably in her chair. “Maybe? I know it sounds crazy, but…” Her voice trailed off and a slight pink hue appeared in her cheeks.

“But?” Raven prodded.

“You think someone took him?” Clarke asked.

Lexa’s eyes barely left the inchworm, who was headed south and clung to Pig Pen’s earlobe. My God, how could she not feel it? “Yeah. Maybe,” she said absently. “I think someone may have stolen him. Maybe to breed him.” 

“For the $5,000 babies,” Raven said.

“Puppies,” Clarke clarified as she added up in her head how much a litter of puppies were worth from studly Caesar. Eight puppies would bring in $40,000! Maybe they should’ve kidnapped the dog.

“I think so, yes. I must sound crazy. I mean, who kidnaps dogs? But I don’t know. Something is fishy. I had a sense that somebody was watching the house the other day when I was visiting.”

“Well, I’m sure we’ll get to the bottom of it,” Raven reassured her. “Cause, it’s what we do.”

“We find pets,” Clarke said.

“Right. Okay. I’ll see you both tomorrow?”

“Absolutely.” 

All three women stood, and Raven reached out a hand. Lexa shook it. When Clarke’s hand was offered, she merely waved, not wanting to make contact, afraid of what might crawl out from her shirt sleeve.

Lexa turned and walked out the door, but before she left, she leaned back in. “You know in the dark, the only letters lit up in your sign are P, E, N, I, S.”

Clarke’s mouth dropped open. “Oh my God.”

“Really?” Raven asked.

“You have some lights out. Might wanna fix that before you attract the wrong clientele.”

“Thanks for letting us know,” Clarke said.

Raven ushered her out the door. “Duly noted. Thank you, Miss Woods.”

“Lexa is fine.” She waved and was gone.

After she left Raven and Clarke stepped outside and looked at the lit sign. Sure enough, it said Penis. Multiple bulbs were out.

Clarke put her hands on her hips. “Great. That’s all I need. Penis seekers.”

“Who’s your friend?” Raven asked.

“What?”

Raven reached out and plucked the inchworm from Clarke’s hair and held him up.

“Oh shit! I had a bug in my hair? Why didn’t you say something?”

“I just saw it now.”

“Jesus, that’s what she was staring at.”

“She wasn’t staring.”

“Yes, she was. I thought it was my cuts. It was because I had worms! Did you see the way she wiped off the seat? Like she might catch something from me?”

“I did notice. But in her defense, you do look disgusting.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

“So how are we gonna look for this dog?”

Raven grabbed Clarke by the shoulders and turned her up the street. She then spun her around and turned her to face the opposite direction. “There. You looked. That’ll be a hundred dollars, please.”

“You mean we’re not gonna look?”

“Clarke, this dog will show up in a day or so. Hopefully a few days. Easiest three hundred bucks you’ll ever make.”

“That doesn’t seem right. We should look.”

“When you’re making your deliveries, you look.”

“But we’re nowhere near the Main Line.”

“Clarke, trust me, the dog will show up without our help. Dogs find their way back home. Why do you think they make so many movies about it? Because it always happens.” Raven wiped her hands on her jeans. “Now go shower, this whole chimney sweep look you got going on is not attractive.”

“Shut up.”

Raven went back inside while Clarke contemplated the situation. It didn’t sit well with her to take someone’s money and not at least try. Even if it was from someone who could afford to lose a few hundred dollars. She’d convince Raven to help her look.

Lexa walked to her car and slid into the back seat. She hoped she didn’t regret hiring these two women to look for Caesar since the police were unwilling to help. A hundred dollars a day was worth it if they could find him. Her Gram had been distraught since the dog went missing. And Lexa would move mountains to help her Gram.

A slight nod into the rearview mirror and her driver knew to take her home. She contemplated the last half hour. The two women were a bit strange. An odd pair. The brunette was attractive. Raven. But the blonde? The blonde needed a bath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may not have a lot of fun travel stories to share with you. The wife has developed some odd phobias the last couple years. She's afraid to, basically move. I first noticed something was wrong about four years ago, when we were driving on the road that takes you to the top of Carr Canyon in Arizona. For those of you not familiar with the "road," it's considered one of the most dangerous in the country. It's basically a two-way dirt road with room for one car. And it winds up and up, with no guardrails in spots, with hairpin switchbacks, severe drop offs, and you have no clue when another car may be coming down the mountain. Couple that with the fact that myself and our bud, Linda, who was driving, were constantly looking up for birds and barely paying attention to the road. So the wife had a full blown panic attack in the backseat. She was literally curled up in the backseat whimpering. I kept saying, "Close your eyes!" and she was like, "I can't!" Needless to say, the ride down was a bit stressful for all. Now she refuses to go on trips where mountains are involved. She didn't go to Ecuador with me this past November because, "There might be a road on a cliff." So that's cars and mountains. Then there's airplanes. At the first slight wobble of turbulence, she's clutching her armrests and goes white as a ghost. Mind you, she's been flying for years with NO ISSUES. Now, she's afraid to fly. Afraid we'll drop right out of the sky and die. Which I know happens, but she could die on the toilet too. And then there's the standard no-mountain car ride. I'm usually the designated driver on trips. And in the past, she's a nice quiet companion in the passenger seat. Now, she's gripping the Jesus handle at the first sign of brake lights, screaming, "WATCH OUT!" And I say, "What?" She says, "They're braking!" And I say, "They're on the other highway for God's sake! They are literally two roads over!" Here's a good one. I'm driving and it's raining, and we're on a highway behind a truck. She said, "Pass this truck!" Okay, into the left lane I go, and I begin passing and she does the patented handle grab and screams, "What are you doing!" I screamed back, "I'm passing the truck!" "Be careful!" And there you have it. My travel hell. I can't wait to take a vacation, and have someone ask, "Where are you going?" And I can reply, "Ah, for a walk. Around the block."  
> Oh, don't tell her I told you this.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go with Chapter 3. Thanks to LisaM for help editing, to atomicbrunette for suggestions, and to great wanheda for support.  
> Good news, E has stepped it up with her "friend." They are now officially dating! So shout out to my baby gay and her girlfriend.  
> What else, um, oh, update on my Clexa Goes to Hollywood book. The publisher said it will be released Nov. 2020. They're working on the book cover now, and editing will begin in June. It's been such a long process! And I am not a patient person, so it makes me bonkers.

<[](https://imgur.com/m63APpY)>

Dufus was protesting the weather in Seattle. Looks like she doesn't appreciate muddy paws. Such a Dufus.

Chapter Three

The next day, Clarke stood outside Rouge, an upscale eatery located at the corner of Locust and Eighteenth Streets.

“Make sure you get this one delivered on time,” Lincoln instructed Clarke as he loaded the white, metal box attached to her bicycle. “They order lunch every day, and from what Pete said, they tip good.”

Clarke checked the address. It was a building at Rittenhouse Square. Fifteenth floor. “Gotcha.”

“Lock the bike every time you get off it, okay? These bikes are custom-made and expensive.”

Clarke nodded. The bike was a three-wheeler, and a large box sat between the two back wheels. It looked like an ice cream cooler. But it was designed to keep food warm on the top and cool on the bottom. A little nerdy looking, but if the tips were good, well worth looking like a nerd.

She tucked her hair under her woolly cap and zipped up her jacket. The air was still cool for early March.

“You should be back in an hour,” Linc said.

“Got it.” Clarke pulled on gloves and took off on her custom Schwinn Nerdo bike.

* * *

Lexa sat in her office going over the numbers for an acquisition they were considering. It was already one o’clock and her belly rumbled in protest. She pressed the intercom button. “Gus, did my lunch get here yet?” She waited for a reply, and when one was not forthcoming, she stood and opened the door, and was met by an empty desk. A delivery man in a wool beanie stood with his back to her, bag dangling from his gloved hand.

Lexa cleared her throat. “Is that my salmon and quinoa salad?”

The person spun around and Lexa did a double take. In front of her was the blonde from yesterday, one of the pet investigators. She must’ve taken that bath, because the mud, leaves and inch worm were gone, and the cuts almost healed. She drew a blank on her name but could see the recognition in the blonde’s eyes.

“Hey. It’s Lexa, right? Do you work here?” the blonde asked looking past Lexa into the office beyond.

“Yes, I do. Is that my lunch?”

“Oh. Um,” she peered down at the delivery slip, “this is for someone named Gus. The lady down the hall said this was his desk.”

“That’s mine, then. He’s my assistant. He orders for me.”

“Oh, okay. Where should I put it?”

Lexa knew she had to tip but had no money in her pocket. “I’ll take it. You can come back here.” She walked into her office and opened a drawer in her desk to pull out some cash. “Usually Peter delivers. Did you just start working there?”

“Yeah. Pete quit.” The blonde stood in front of the desk, grinning sheepishly. “It’s my first day. Sorry if I’m a little late. I’m just trying to get the lay of the land, so to speak.”

“So, pet detective and delivery girl?”

“Gotta pay the bills, you know? Don’t worry, I’ll have plenty of time to look for Nero.”

“Caesar.”

“Right. Caesar. Sorry.”

Lexa sifted through her desk drawer, looking for some greenbacks. All she could find were two one-dollar bills and a fifty. Fifty seemed extreme for a tip on a twenty dollar salad. Her fingers wrapped around the two dollars. She bit her lip in annoyance at not having more cash on hand. Gus usually took care of everything.

She grabbed the fifty and walked around to the front of her desk, holding out the money. “This is all I have right now, ah...I’m sorry, I forgot your name.”

“Clarke. Clarke Griffin. And no way, I can’t take that.” Clarke gently pushed Lexa’s hand away. “It’s too much. Your lunch was only twenty bucks.”

“Please, I insist.”

“I can’t. That’s...that’s totally too much. You can get me next time.”

“Well, are you guys coming out to the house later today? We can settle up then.”

“Yeah, that’ll work.” Clarke looked around the spartan office. The walls were blank, but the view out the window was beautiful. The Philly skyline danced along the horizon. “Nice view,” she said, nodding toward the window.

Lexa turned and looked. Funny, she rarely took in the sights when she sat at her desk. “I guess it is, yes.”

“Not much for decorating, are you?”

Lexa looked sharply at the blonde but saw the impish grin and her frown faded. The blue eyes staring back were warm and alive, and drew her in. Rosy cheeks only accentuated the brilliant color. A soft smile played on full red lips. A pleasant heat coursed through Lexa’s lower belly. A surprising reaction considering she held her emotions in check constantly. Why didn’t she notice those blue eyes yesterday? And that totally kissable mouth? The filth probably hid them. “I guess I never took the time.”

“I’m sorry, don’t mind me. I’m an artist, so I’m always observing and critiquing. It’s a bad habit.”

“No, that’s okay. It is a little boring in here.”

“You know, just a vase of fresh cut flowers would bring in so much color. Flowers always brighten my day, no matter how shitty it is.” Clarke’s eyebrows rose. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to curse. Another bad habit.”

Lexa’s lips quivered in an almost smile. “It’s fine.”

Clarke hitched a thumb over her shoulder. “Well, I better get going. I was supposed to be back at the restaurant ten minutes ago. Don’t need to get fired on my first day.”

“No. You better get moving.” Lexa followed her out the door.

Clarke turned around with a brief wave and hustled down the hallway.

Lexa watched her retreating back. And her retreating ass. She stared long after the blonde had skipped into the elevator.

Employees wandered past and nodded hello, jolting her back to reality. Realizing she must look ridiculous staring into space, she stalked back into her office and shut the door. After taking a seat at her desk, she turned a critical eye to her surroundings, looking at it from a different perspective, and realized how boring and blah everything was. The walls were a dull beige. The only things in the large bookcase were business books and accounting binders. No knickknacks or personal items. A laptop was the only thing on her expansive glass desk. No photos or portraits, or even office supplies. Clarke was right. It was downright dullsville.

Lexa spun around to take in the view Clarke had admired. Why had she never taken the time to relax and enjoy it? It _was_ stunning, with the light bouncing off the skyscrapers, and the large park below, the actual Rittenhouse Square that gave the neighborhood its name, a park currently filled with joggers and dog walkers on this sunny afternoon.

Clarke. An unusual name for a woman. Lexa decided she liked it. She was suddenly looking forward to this afternoon’s meeting.

* * *

Raven turned into a long driveway and whistled. “Holy shit, look at this place.”

They both gawped at the stone mansion at the end of the cobblestone driveway.

“Oh my God, it’s beautiful,” Clarke gushed.

She always loved old, stately homes. Their history and character begged to be painted. Tall oak trees lined the drive. The three-story house itself was stone and stucco, with a round turret and various peaks and dormers. At the entrance, four Corinthian columns stood two stories tall, supporting the white portico above.

Clarke guessed it to be about ten thousand square feet. At the house, the driveway opened into a large semicircle, creating a huge space for parking. The high arched windows along the first floor stood as tall as doorways and were surrounded by intricate trim. Lush landscaping stretched along the entire front and disappeared around the edges.

It was a house that belonged in a fairy tale.

After parking, they walked to the door. Raven scanned the impressive, oversized oak door. “Where’s the doorbell?”

“I think you just do this.” Clarke grasped the brass knocker and rapped it sharply on the door.

They stood back and waited. The huge door swung open to reveal an older woman with her gray hair pulled into a bun at the base of her neck.

“Hi, you must be Grandma Woods.” Raven shoved her hand forward.

Clarke cleared her throat to get Raven’s attention and gave a slight shake of her head.

The older woman ushered them both inside. “I am not Mrs. Woods. My name is Margaret,” she said pleasantly.

“Oh. I’m sorry, Margaret. We’re supposed to meet Lexa.”

“Yes, I know. Follow me please.”

Raven raised her eyebrows and made a face at Clarke, who quietly slapped her. They lagged far enough behind the woman that Clarke was able to whisper, “In this neighborhood, the residents don’t answer the door. I think she’s the housekeeper or something.”

“Really? You think she’d come over to my place and clean my bedroom?”

“Stop it.”

“This place is huge,” Raven mumbled. “We’re gonna need a GPS to find our way out of here. Must be six thousand square feet.”

The woman turned. “It’s eleven thousand square feet.”

Raven’s cheeks reddened, but she tried to play it cool. “Eleven thousand square feet? Is that all? Seems bigger.” The apartment she shared with O and Linc was not even eleven _hundred_ square feet.

Clarke glared at her and mouthed, “Behave.”

Raven playfully sneered back. Then turned her attention to Margaret. “Margaret, how many bathrooms does this place have?”

“Nine full baths and three half baths.”

Raven leaned into Clarke’s ear. “This place has to be worth over five million.”

Margaret’s voice carried back to them. “If it was put on the market today, it would fetch ten.”

Raven stumbled briefly while calculating the commission on the sale of such a house. “You know Margaret, I’m in real estate. So if Mrs. Woods ever wants to sell, I’d be more than happy to help her with that.”

Clarke rolled her eyes, and in a hushed tone said, “You’ve been in real estate since birth and have yet to sell a house.”

“Very funny, Clarke. It’s been six months.”

“And you haven’t sold anything.”

“Pfft! Minor detail.”

Margaret stopped in front of a doorway. “Here we are.”

They entered a light and airy room. Shelves filled with leather-bound books lined the oak-paneled walls. Several overstuffed, brightly colored chairs were strategically placed around the room, inviting one to sit and stay awhile.

Lexa and two older women sat at a round, mahogany table in the middle of the room.

Lexa stood when they entered. “Raven and Clarke, thank you so much for coming. This is my grandmother, Catherine Woods, and her partner, Lila.”

Raven grunted with appreciation. “Shit, this place is huge.”

Clarke winced at the profanity and gave Lexa an apologetic look. Green eyes sparkled back, and a warmth tickled along Clarke’s rib cage. _Odd_. It was an odd sensation. If she didn’t know better, she swore it felt like attraction. But that was impossible. This was a woman. And Clarke had never been attracted to a woman before. Okay, yes, Chrissy was hot. But that was the only time.

Clarke smiled at Catherine Woods, who smiled warmly back. She extended a hand. “It’s nice to meet you Mrs. Woods.”

The older woman clasped the offered hand. “Oh please, call me Catherine.”

“Okay, Catherine.” Clarke’s grin widened. Lexa’s Gram reminded Clarke of her own grandmother who had passed away last year. Except for the green eyes. Green eyes must run in the Wood’s family. She snuck a peek at Lexa. Clarke had never dated anyone with green eyes before. And why that thought popped into her head was a mystery.

“This room is beautiful,” Clarke said. She wandered over to a painting that hung on the wall next to the window. The portrait of an older man with heavy, white whiskers had to be from the early 1900’s. She studied the painting and gasped. “Is this a Thomas Eakins portrait?”

Catherine stood next to Clarke. “It certainly is. That is my late husband’s grandfather, Alexander Woods.”

“Wow. This is incredible,” Clarke said. “A Thomas Eakins original.”

“You know art?”

“I’m an artist myself, actually.”

“How wonderful! My late husband and I loved art. Who’s your favorite artist?”

Clarke paused as she contemplated the question. “Right now? I’d have to say Marcus Kane.”

“Ah. I’ve seen his work. The perfect blend of European and American Impressionism.”

Clarke’s face lit up. “Yes! The texture he gets from using palette knives is amazing. I’ve been working on that technique myself.” She chuckled. “With limited success I might add.”

“Keep practicing, you’ll get it. You know Mr. Kane has a private showing at the Institute of Contemporary Art soon. Are you going?”

“Oh. I don’t think so. It’s hard to get tickets to private showings.”

“True.” Catherine put an arm around Clarke’s shoulders. “Next time you stop by, I’ll take you for a tour and show you our entire collection.”

“That sounds great. I take it your granddaughter doesn’t share your affinity for art?” Clarke asked with a devilish glint in her eye. “I’ve been to her office. Very bland.”

Catherine laughed, and it was a grand sound. “Oh my dear, you are so right. No, she does not. She’s all business.” Gram turned to Lexa. “And how did you come to be in my Lexa’s office?”

Lexa smiled at the look her Gram sent her way. “She delivered my lunch today.”

Clarke softly bumped her shoulder into Catherine’s. “And I told her she needed to spruce up the place,” she teased.

Gram winked at Lexa. “I like this one.”

Lexa didn’t appreciate the sudden mischief in her grandmother’s eyes. She’d seen the look many times in her life. Gram had always fancied herself a matchmaker. And Lexa didn’t need any matchmaking right now. “How about we talk about Caesar?”

Gram linked her arm through Clarke’s and led her back to the table, while Clarke glanced over her shoulder and grinned at Lexa, who tried to look annoyed. And failed miserably.

“My granddaughter tells me you ladies are going to help find my precious Caesar.”

Clarke nodded. “I can’t believe he’s lost. But we’re here to help.”

“And if you need to sell this house, we can help with that too,” Raven added.

Clarke patted Gram’s arm while she gave Raven the evil eye. “Let’s just concentrate on Caesar right now.”

They spent the next few minutes looking at pictures and discussing the best way to get the word out about the missing dog. Lexa had flyers already printed and gave them to Raven.

“Great, we’ll hang these up around the neighborhood and check in with the shelters in case he gets turned in. We’ll find him, don’t worry,” Raven assured.

“He is microchipped. But sometimes the shelters don’t check right away,” Lexa said.

Raven’s eyes widened. “Whoa! Microchipped? You mean he’s got a tiny GPS on him? We should be able to find him on your iPhone then, right? A friend of mine tracks her parents and her girlfriend from her phone. Which I personally think is a bit much, I mean,” she cupped her hand to her mouth and yelled, “hello! Invasion of privacy! I’ll be talking to her and she’ll be like, ‘my dad’s on the toilet.’ Like I wanna know that.” She stopped talking because everyone was staring at her.

Lexa wore a puzzled expression. “What?”

With a shrug, Raven said, “What.”

“A microchip isn’t a GPS,” Lexa said. “It just contains a registration and phone number.”

“Oh. Why didn’t you say so?”

“I didn’t think I had to.”

“We’ll just hang the flyers and get back to you if we hear something,” Clarke said.

Lexa nodded and led them back to the front door and out to their car. She slipped a ten dollar bill into Clarke’s palm. “I owe you this.”

Clarke glanced at the bill. “That’s still too much.” She compromised. “Do you order lunch every day from Rouge?”

Lexa nodded. “I usually do.”

For some reason, this revelation made Clarke happy. “Then I’m gonna consider this your tip for tomorrow too.”

The corner of Lexa’s lips turned up in a soft smile. “We’ll see about that.”

They stared at each other for a second longer than usual before Clarke slid into the front seat.

Raven started the car and drove down the driveway. “What the hell was that about?”

“What?”

“If I didn’t know better, I swear you two were eye fucking.”

“What? Don’t be silly. We weren’t eye fucking.” Clarke put her window down to let some fresh air in. “What the hell is eye fucking anyway?”

“You know that weird way people look at each other when they’re attracted to them.”

“I wasn’t eye fucking anybody.”

“If you say so, Clarke.”

“I say so. Of course, I say so. Eye fucking. You’re ridiculous.” Clarke stared at the passing scenery and wondered if there was eye fucking. Suddenly she wasn’t so sure. No. That’s silly. She wasn’t attracted to women. Except for you know who. Whose kiss had replayed in her mind for weeks afterward.

“She’s yours if you want her. I’ve got a boner for the cop,” Raven said.

“I thought you had a boner for your boss?”

“That was before Lieutenant Rivers flowed into my life.” Raven chuckled. “Did you get that? I said flowed, Rivers, get it?”

“I got it.”

“A little play on words—”

“Got it,” Clarke said curtly.

Raven frowned at Clarke’s lack of support for her word play. “You excited to sleep in your new digs tonight?”

“Excited is not the word that comes to mind.”

“Thrilled?”

Clarke shook her head.

“Happy?”

“No.”

“Ecstatic.”

“No.

“I give up. How do you feel?”

“Apprehensive.”

“Why?”

“Just...I don’t know. What if I hear shit in the alley and get scared?”

“Call me. I’ll come right over.”

“I’ll be dead by the time you get there.”

“I’ll drive fast.” Raven stole a glance at her bestie, whose brows were drawn together in worry. “You’ll be fine. Lincoln put strong locks on that back door.”

“Okay. You’re right. I’ll be fine. I’m just being a weenie.”

* * *

Later that night, Clarke strolled down Sansom Street, takeout in hand, whistling a nondescript tune. Today was a good day. One of the best since this whole fiasco started. A fiasco that had cast a pall over her life. But today things seemed brighter. Immediately, her thoughts went back to Lexa and the look they shared when they said goodbye. Clarke had sensed a loneliness behind those green eyes. A sadness maybe. Being a usually upbeat person, Clarke felt it her job to cheer people up, so she would take it upon herself to brighten Lexa’s day. Starting tomorrow. She already had formulated a plan.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a large, black cat sitting in front of an alleyway up ahead. Her stomach knotted. _Ugh_. Black cats. Harbingers of bad luck. Omens of death and misfortune. She promptly gave it a wide berth, so wide she almost fell off the curb.

After righting herself, she glanced behind. Said black cat was trotting after her now. _Fuck_. She certainly didn’t need more bad luck in her life. She took a quick turn on Twentieth Street and paused after a few yards. Sure enough, the cat turned and stopped at the corner, tail twitching high in the air, green eyes glowing in the dark. Clarke nibbled at her bottom lip. _Shit! Okay, don’t panic, he’s just a stray. Maybe he smells my dinner_.

Setting a brisker pace, she continued, heartbeat drumming in her ears. Using her peripheral vision, she scouted behind her. _Shit, shit, shit_. The cat was jogging now, so Clarke jogged. She turned down Chestnut. The store was close. Another block and she’d be safe inside! Fumbling in her coat pocket, she readied her keys. The green awning came into view, and it was the first time she was happy to see it.

Sweat trickled down her back as she shoved the key in the lock. Her wild eyes landed on the black menace barreling down the sidewalk. _Fuck, fuck, fuck! What’s the matter with the key?_ It seemed frozen and wouldn’t turn in the lock. Today was the day she would die, bleeding out from being scratched to death.

Finally, the key twisted and the bolt slid open. She shoved the door open and stumbled in, slamming it behind her. The keys were still stuck in the lock, slowly swinging back and forth. On the outside. Great. She jammed her back against the glass door to create an immovable force. Surely cats can’t open doors. Could they? Clarke had no idea, her only interaction with felines was the recent mauling at the paws of Jonesy, the whirling, orange dervish.

After five minutes, the cramping in her calves won out, and Clarke crumpled to the ground. She turned and surveyed the sidewalk in front of the store. No sign of the hairy devil incarnate. Where the hell did he go? Was it a he? It could be a she. But since the recent downturn of events in her life was due to a male, it only made sense to call this new torment, He.

The coast seemed clear, so Clarke opened the door and pulled her keys from the lock, then relocked it from the inside. Phew! Bad omen and death avoided. She tossed the keys onto the desk and opened the bag with her dinner. With an exhausted groan, she plopped down, pulled some utensils out of the drawer, and began to eat her tuna salad sandwich. With some head bobs and her signature humming, she inhaled her meal.

Suddenly she froze mid-chew. Just when she thought the earlier nightmare had ended. Just when she thought she was safe from curses and bad mojo, the terror had returned. His pointy nose, upright ears, and evil green eyes were the only thing visible in the large plate glass window. She whipped out her phone and snapped a pic, sending it off to her bestie. “If you find me dead in the morning, blame him.”

Her phone rang immediately.

“Who’s your friend?”

“He followed me home. Now he’s just sitting there staring at me. I mean, really? A black fucking cat is not what I need stalking me right now.”

“Invite him in. Maybe he’s hungry.”

“I am not inviting him in. Jesus. Have you forgotten my last mishap with a cat? Wait. He just left.” Clarke blew out a shaky breath. “Thank God.”

“Anything else?”

“No. I guess not.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

It took an hour for Clarke to relax again, and when her jangled nerves settled, she decided to paint. She was in the process of recreating one of her ruined pictures. After an hour, she stood back and studied the canvas. Not bad. Maybe she could have it done in a couple of days. She put her woolly hat on and blew on her hands to warm them up. The nights were still cool, and in the interest of keeping the utility bills low, she had the heat set to sixty. Her wool beanie served two functions, keeping her toasty and giving comfort.

Suddenly the back door rattled, and Clarke dropped her paint brush. The door shook on its hinges and Clarke scampered back against the wall and Facetimed Raven.

“Did your friend come back?”

In a panicked rush, Clarke stammered, “There’s somebody outside the back door! They’re trying to get in!”

Raven fluffed a pillow and propped herself against the headboard of her bed. “Oh, are we playing _Jeopardy_? Cool. What is... _The Blair Witch Project_.”

Clarke grimaced. “What?”

“You’re doing _The Blair Witch Project_ , you know the scene where she’s talking into her phone with her woolly hat on.”

“There’s somebody outside.” Clarke yelped as a bang sounded. “Jesus Christ, first a black cat and now this. I’m gonna die tonight.”

“Calm down! I’ll be right over. Let me get out of my pajamas.”

Just as quickly as the rattling started it stopped.

“Wait. It stopped. I think they left.”

Raven sank back onto her bed. “You want me to come over?”

“No. No. I’m fine. Maybe it’s someone who just tries all the doors in the alley, and they moved on. I should go look though.” Was that a wise idea? But she couldn’t imagine sleeping if she didn’t check. “I’m gonna go check. Stay on the phone.”

“Okay. I’m right here. Take that baseball bat Linc gave you.”

“Good idea.” Clarke picked up the wooden Louisville Slugger and crept over to the door. She placed her ear against the steel and listened. All was quiet. She unlatched the locks and cracked open the door. Her head poked into the alley. She squealed when she saw a crumpled form sitting against the wall next to her door. She decided to go balls to the walls and jumped out, brandishing her twenty-eight-ounce wooden weapon. “Hey!” she yelled.

The crumpled form came alive and jumped up. “Aaaahh!”

Startled, Clarke screamed back, “Aaaahh!”

The form sprinted away.

Clarke jumped back inside and hastily slid the locks back into place. Her chest heaved with every intake of breath. Raven’s screeching could be heard from the phone, so she picked it up with a shaking hand. “Holy shit!” Clarke squealed.

“What happened?”

“There was someone right outside my door.”

“Did you hit them with the bat.”

“No! They ran away. I think it was a boy.”

“A boy? What did he look like?”

“I didn’t get a good look. But he looked kinda homeless.”

“Homeless?”

“Yeah. Really disheveled and dirty.”

“Well, I’m sure you scared him away.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“Do you want me to come over?”

“No. I’m fine. I’ll be okay.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I’ll call if anything else happens.”

“Okay. Then I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Got it. Nite Rae.”

After hanging up with Raven, Clarke slumped onto the mattress. How the hell was she supposed to sleep tonight? Funny, three hours ago she was whistling and happy. For the first time in over a week. And now she was cowering in her bed.

Her eyes narrowed. _Damn black cat_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got nothing. My life has been devoid of comedy. Too much bad shit in the world right now, and it's darkened my mood. Oh, wait! I do have something. My tomato today was hard as a rock. It was a rockmato. Just thought I'd share. Carry on.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 4 is comin' at ya! Shout-outs to Lisam and Atomicbrunette, my editor and betas. My partially adopted gay daughter E took time away from her new relationship to send me this Dufus pic. What can I say? The dog cracks me up. (I have no idea why there's a line under the picture and an arrow next to it. I've spent way too much time obsessing over it, and am now exhausted. Just pretend they're not there. The fucker won't center either. So just look away.)
> 
> Find my Facebook page [here](https://www.facebook.com/lorig.matthews.71).  
> You can follow me if you want. I post updates about the book there. I'm hoping they have the cover art done soon, then I can share. Did I mention they have it scheduled for a November release date? I feel like this is taking years. I'm so impatient. 
> 
> tumblr [here](https://lorig11.tumblr.com/).

[](https://imgur.com/2l1cnxy)>

Chapter Four

Lexa walked briskly down the hallway towards her office, her Manolo Blahnik’s clicking along the polished oak floors. The board meeting ran late which meant she probably missed seeing Clarke. And why that was such a disappointment was baffling. She hardly knew the woman.

Of course, in her dream last night she knew Clarke just fine. Knew every curve of her body. Knew her taste, her smell. The dream still lingered and distracted. Lexa was barely coherent in the meeting this morning. Sex dreams about women she hardly knew were not the norm. Was some introspection in order? Probably. But for once Lexa left it alone. Clarke was attractive, and her personality was like a breath of fresh air, and Lexa felt drawn to her. _There_. She admitted it. So, of course it was appealing to interact with her again. That was it, nothing more. A small attraction of sorts. A tiny blip on the radar. Probably all tied to the fact that she hadn’t had sex in a while.

Gus was at his desk when she arrived at her office. 

Her big, burly assistant stood when she stopped in front of him. Always a smart dresser, he looked fine in a navy blue Brooks Brothers suit. The lavender tie and handkerchief were the perfect complimentary pieces. He kept his brown hair and beard neatly trimmed. “Your finance meeting was moved back to 4 pm today. The Brookman proposal came back from legal and they said it was a go. And...your lunch is here.” He had an odd smile on his face as he handed her a stack of papers.

She cocked a questioning eyebrow while grabbing the papers and walked into her office. Lexa stopped short and Gus almost bumped into her. “What’s this?” she asked.

Four large vases of freshly cut flowers were scattered about the room, the largest sitting on the corner of her desk.

Gus cleared his throat. “Yeah. About the flowers. The woman who delivered your lunch brought them and insisted I find vases. So I did.” His smirk was back. “She was very attractive.” 

Lexa hid a smile and turned to face him. “I need the budget numbers on my desk in an hour so I’m ready for the finance meeting.” A small, playful shove to his chest sent him from the room and he closed the door on his way out.

Lexa tossed the papers on her desk and took in the array of colors bursting around her office. Lavender and lilies, carnations and gardenias. Reds and whites and oranges and purples. She bent to inhale the scent of the bouquet on her desk. With a satisfied grunt she sat down in her high back leather chair. Suddenly her stark office space was alive and vibrant. For a hot second, she wanted to track Clarke down and ask her to dinner. She quickly admonished herself. Where did that come from? Lexa never acted impulsively. Her thoughts and words were always carefully measured. And asking a woman she barely knew out to dinner because of some odd fascination _screamed_ impulsive.

Perhaps a minor dalliance was in order. She thumbed through her contacts. She had a few friends with benefits who could be relied upon to quench this thirst. Friends who expected nothing else in return. As she scanned her list of prospective sexual partners, none grabbed her attention. None titillated. She tossed the phone onto her desk.

Blue eyes danced in front of her. A sweet smile and dimpled cheeks soon followed. Images from the dream were next.

Okay, this was ridiculous. She picked her phone back up and texted her friend Sandra to see if she wanted to come over tonight. After hitting send, she opened the container on her desk and began to eat her lunch. All thoughts of sex and women and blondes with blue eyes were banished from her brain as she glanced through the stack of papers.

Her phone vibrated.

Sandra replied with a smiley emoji. “I’ll bring the wine.”

Good. One thing would be crossed off her to-do list.

Her intercom buzzed. “Lieutenant Rivers is here,” Gus said.

She pushed her lunch aside. “Send her in.”

Luna walked through the door and whistled. “What’s with the flowers?”

“Just trying to add some pizazz. It’s kinda dull in here.”

“It’s been dull for nine years.”

“Well, now it’s not. How’s it going?”

Luna settled into the chair in front of Lexa’s desk. “Just thought I’d stop by and bust your ass for a few minutes. Also wanted to give you an update on the new kid.”

“Oh, good. How’s he doing?”

“He’s adjusting. Wells said he’s getting along with everyone. Joined the group session yesterday, and he opened up a little.”

“That’s great. He’s lucky you found him.”

Lexa’s biggest philanthropist project was The Catherine Woods House, a residential shelter for homeless LGBTQ youth located on South Juniper St. and named for her Gram. She bought the property five years ago and with help from the William Way Community Center, turned it into a safe haven for young people who, for whatever reasons, had nowhere else to turn. The house had trained staff on site who helped the kids adjust to life after coming out or transitioning and provided them with the skills to cope and find jobs. It was so successful she was in the process of purchasing the house next door also.

“The approval for the permits came back, so we should be able to settle on the property next door by the end of June.”

“It’s great work you’re doing, my friend,” Luna said.

“Thank you. Your help has been invaluable.”

Luna tilted her chair back and folded her arms. “Anything on the dog?”

“No, not yet.”

“I wish I could do more.”

Lexa rose from her chair and grabbed two water bottles from the small fridge next to her desk and handed one to Luna. “No worries. I know there’s more pressing issues for the police department than a missing dog.”

Luna twisted the top off her bottle. “Did you get in touch with those pet finders on Chestnut Street?”

Lexa nodded. “I did actually.” She remembered the inchworm and chuckled. Clarke and her inchworm.

“What?”

“Nothing. They were, ah, interesting.”

Luna laughed. “I was wondering what you would think of them. They were a little nutty.”

Lexa cocked a brown. “Yeah. You didn’t tell me they were nutty.”

“I wanted to let you form your own opinion.”

“Fair enough.”

“Besides, I kinda fucked with them a little bit. So my opinion might be skewed.”

“Fucked with them? What’d you do?”

“Ah, nothing too bad. Had the one thinking her made-up cousin was a perp.”

She stopped there, so Lexa prodded. “Well, that begs for more of an explanation.”

Luna laughed. “The brunette went on some wild tangent about how they took over the store from some relative. I could tell she was reaching, so I made it sound like I knew him. And that he was a criminal.”

Lexa smiled. “You’re bad.”

Luna shrugged. “I kinda got the impression they’re not supposed to be there. Space is owned by Society Hill Realty, and the brunette works there. I checked them out after I left, no priors. They seem harmless enough.” She took a swig from the bottle. “Brunette was hot.” 

Lexa grinned. “She was. Blonde was cute too. You should’ve seen her the night I showed up. Filthy. Like she had rolled in the mud. Had an inch worm in her hair and everything.”

“And you thought that was cute?”

“Not at the time. Then yesterday she delivered my lunch, and I barely recognized her. The mud was gone. The worm was gone.” Lexa smiled and shrugged.

“Sounds like you dig her.”

Lexa straightened in her chair. “I wasn’t digging her. She’s attractive, that’s all.”

Luna laughed. “You dig her. It’s okay, girl. You can admit it.”

“I’m…I’m not.” Lexa closed her mouth. “Okay, I find her attractive. Happy?”

Luna smirked and nodded. “Maybe we should double date, like we did in high school.”

“Ha! I don’t think so. You know I’m not one for dating.”

Lexa and Luna attended The Baldwin School together, a private high school in Bryn Mawr. They were close friends and plotted their futures on quiet Saturday nights. Lexa knew she was headed for Yale to get a business degree, with an eye on taking over the family business.

Lawyers were the career of choice in Luna’s family, so she would start her undergrad at Princeton and hope to get into Harvard Law School.

After graduating from Princeton, Luna had a change of heart, and surprised everyone by entering the police academy. Everyone except her high school bestie, who knew of Luna’s secret desire to be in law enforcement. She yearned to serve and protect, and looking fabulous in uniform was a bonus. So she bucked the family tradition of lawyering and joined the academy at twenty-two. By thirty she was a lieutenant in the narcotics division. Lexa was proud of her friend and could envision her as commissioner one day. And the city would be the better for it.

“How’s work been for you?” Lexa asked.

“Ugh. Fucking Nia Black. We just can’t nail her. We know she’s the biggest dealer in the city, but we can’t pin anything on her.”

“Hang in there. Maybe something will break soon.”

“Hope so.” Luna stood and stretched. “Okay, I better get back to it. Let me know if you find the dog.”

“I will.”

“And if the girls can’t find him, you should think about posting a reward.”

Lexa pressed her lips together. “I will. How big?”

“Big enough to get people’s attention.”

Soon after Luna left, Gus buzzed her. “Indra’s here.”

“Send her in.”

Indra was head of security for Woods Enterprises. Robert Woods, Lexa’s father, hired her soon after she completed her last tour of duty in Afghanistan. The company had offices in Philadelphia and Chicago, so she spent her time traveling back and forth between the two offices. All security matters fell under her domain, whether it be data breaches, or background checks on potential business partners. She was relentless and thorough, and Woods Enterprises was lucky to have her. When she entered, she placed a folder on Lexa’s desk. “We completed the research on Harbiton Industries. I don’t think you’re gonna like what we found.”

Lexa sighed. Harbiton was the lowest bid on the cybersecurity contract for Woods Enterprises. Her father, who thought John Harbiton was an upstanding family man, had signaled his approval, but left final say with Lexa. “What did you find?”

“Mr. Harbiton is a big donor for Congressman Jeffries.”

“Oh shit, Jeffries?”

“Yep. Mr. Anti-LGBTQ. Harbiton himself is also active on quite a few white supremacists’ websites. Under pseuds of course, but we found them. Also, routinely visits porn sites, usually when he’s out of town.”

Lexa had no idea how Indra managed to dig up so much dirt on people. It was best to not ask any questions. “Anything else?”

“We came across some photos.”

“Came across?”

Indra smiled. “Okay, we took them.”

“And?”

“He’s having an affair with at least two women.”

“So Mr. Family Values is a philanderer, in addition to a bigot and racist. Who also dabbles in porn.”

“That about sums it up.”

“Have you told my father?”

“No. I wanted to talk to you first.”

“Well, no way am I enriching a racist, bigoted cheater. I’ll talk to my father later.”

Indra nodded her approval, then glanced around the office. “What’s with the flowers?”

Lexa tried to be cavalier. “Oh, someone dropped them off.”

Indra sat back and crossed her arms. “Someone?”

Lexa felt a slight burn in her cheeks. “Yes. She thought the place needed a little color.”

Indra’s eyes narrowed. “She?”

“It’s not important.” Ever since Costia had broken her heart, Lexa’s father had become acutely overprotective. Any time there was a hint of someone entering Lexa’s life, there would be a manila folder on her desk within a week. A complete dossier courtesy of Indra. Since there was never a hint of Lexa losing her heart, the dossiers didn’t matter. Until now. She did not want Clarke subjected to one of Indra’s covert seek and find missions. Not that she was in danger of losing her heart to Clarke. It wasn’t that. It was just…Clarke didn’t deserve that kind of probe into her private life. “Thank you for this info. I’m glad you found it before we awarded the contract.”

That seemed to mollify Indra, whose posture relaxed. “Just doing my job.”

* * *

Finn paced around Roosevelt Park in south Philly. He had his hand in his pocket, fingers wrapped around five thousand dollars. The park was a busy public place, so if Murphy wanted to kill him, maybe he’d think twice.

“Yo.”

Finn jumped and turned around. Murphy had arrived with Jasper and Monty, his usual muscle-less muscle men. Jasper was walking a small puffy dog that was barely ten inches long. Not exactly a mobster kind of dog. “Hey Murphy. Hey doggie.” He bent over to pet the dog and snatched his hand back to avoid its snapping teeth.

“Good dog,” Murph said with a smirk.

Finn checked to make sure his fingers were still intact. “What kind of dog is it?”

“A Pomeranian. Her name is Princess.”

“She’s, um, very tiny.”

“You got a problem with that?”

“No, no. It’s just, uh, I would’ve expected a...bigger dog?”

Murphy’s eyes narrowed and he looked like he was gonna pop him. “What are you saying?”

Finn swallowed the lump of fear in his throat. “It’s just...ah...usually…” He decided to cut his losses. “She’s beautiful.”

“She sure is. And don’t you forget it.”

Finn nodded. “I won’t. So what’s happening?”

“You tell me. Are we gonna have to bury your body somewhere?” Murph sneered at his joke and turned to his compatriots, who nervously laughed.

Finn took a quick glance around the park. People seemed to be minding their own business. “I have five grand for you, and there’s more coming. I just need some time.” He pulled out a wad of bills and handed them over.

Murph flipped through them. “I’ll count it later. If you’re short, we’ll pay you a little visit. I know where you’re hiding.”

“Hey Uncle Murph, do you have a poop bag? Princess went to the bathroom over here,” Jasper said.

Murphy glared. “Who gives a fuck? Leave it.”

This didn’t sit well with Jasper, who searched through his pockets and pulled out a napkin. Bending over, he studied the tiny defecation. “It looks like a tootsie roll, doesn’t it?” he asked Monty.

Monty placed his hands on his knees and leaned over. “Ha. It does.”

Jasper made a face as he scooped it up. After straightening, he handed the napkin to Monty.

Monty pushed his hand away. “Why you giving it to me?”

“I can’t put it in _my_ pocket.”

“So I’m supposed to put it in my pocket?”

“You have more pockets than I do.”

“I’m not putting it in my pocket.”

“Your pockets zip, it’s easier,” Jasper grumbled.

“Are you two fucks actually arguing about dog shit?” Murphy yelled.

Jasper glared back. “I hate when people don’t pick up after their dogs.”

Murphy took a deep breath and looked skyward. “Just find a fucking trashcan then and throw it out.” He turned his attention back to Finn. “You’re lucky I’m a patient man. My sister, not so much. You better clear this up soon. Or else I’ll have to find that girlfriend of yours and mess her up.”

“No. Leave Clarke out of this.”

Murphy stepped closer to Finn. “Then I guess you better find a way to keep making payments,” he said through clenched teeth.

“I will, I...I just need time. I can make another payment soon.”

Murphy grabbed him by the collar, and raised a fist, then relaxed, released him, and nodded. He bent over and picked up Princess and kissed her head. “Let’s go home baby.” He jammed a finger into Finn’s chest. “You got a week.”

Finn slid the key into the door of the row home on Daly Street in South Philly and pushed it open. “It’s just me.” He put his keys on the table by the door and took the grocery bags into the kitchen.

“Did you get dog food?” his stepsister asked as she shuffled into the kitchen in her pajamas. Her unkempt brown hair hung limply down to her shoulders. Dark circles were visible below her eyes.

“Jesus, it’s almost noon and you’re still not dressed.”

“Shut the fuck up. Did you get the dog food?”

“Yes, I got dog food.” Finn emptied the bags onto the counter and held up the bag of Purina One. “See? Where is he?”

“Sleeping on your bed.”

“On my bed? Thanks a lot.”

“Well, I want him to be comfortable.”

“Did you take him out?”

“Yeah, about an hour ago.”

Finn pulled out a chair, sat down, and rubbed his eyes. “I still can’t believe you stole him.”

“Why? You were the one who raved about the checks the old lady would cash at your bank. Well now I can cash those checks.”

“You’ve gotta have an AKC certificate to breed him.”

Ontari went into the other room and returned with a sheet of paper. She slapped it down on the table. “Voilà.”

Finn stared at the American Kennel Certificate. “Where’d you get that?”

“I fucking made it.”

“It looks good.”

“Damn right it does. I’m just gonna lay low with him for a few weeks, maybe a month, then watch the money roll in. In the meantime, I can use him for other stuff.”

Finn had his doubts about Ontari’s breeding scheme but kept it to himself. His stepsis could be a pill on her best days, and he needed to stay on her good side since he had nowhere else to go right now. “Use him for what other stuff?”

She produced a small metal cylinder with a clip on it. It was about an inch long. “Gonna clip this to his collar. Slip some Oxy in there and sell it. Cops won’t search a dog.”

Finn was skeptical. “You better be careful. You don’t want the dog out in public. What if someone recognizes him?”

“I’ll use some hair dye and change his coloring a little. Nobody will know.” She lit a cigarette, took a drag and blew the smoke off to the side. “What’s going on with your situation?”

“I bought some time with Murphy. Gave him five grand that I took from Mrs. Duffy’s safe deposit box. Which reminds me, I need some more fakes to slip in there.”

Ontari’s unique counterfeiting skills came in handy at the bank. Now she could add fake AKC certificates to her expansive repertoire, which included fake driver’s licenses and hundred dollar bills. The bills wouldn’t pass muster with an expert, but in a safe deposit box, just sitting in the middle of a stack, they did the job. 

That was Finn’s main con, slipping into safe deposit boxes, undetected, and filching money, replacing it with fakes. He went undetected because he knew how to rig the security video. That coupled with the fact that nobody ever checked their boxes made it the _almost_ perfect crime. It wasn’t perfect, because Finn knew no crime was. But to the untrained eye, the counterfeit loot looked legit. And with no video proof of entry, no one would ever suspect him. See? Almost perfect. Ninety-nine percent perfect.

“Murphy’s not your problem, his sister is. You’re lucky Nia’s been patient,” Ontari said. “Last dude who owed her a bunch of money ended up in the Schuylkill River.”

“Well, you can’t collect from a dead man.”

She tapped her ashes into a plastic cup filled with water. “That and I vouched for you. So you owe me.” Ontari was a low-level drug dealer for Nia Black. “Maybe you should cool it with the gambling.”

“I’ll win it back. I was just unlucky with that one Super Bowl bet. And I didn’t hear you complaining last year when I won eighty grand on some games.”

She scoffed. “How’s your little girlfriend taking all this?”

“Clarke’s pissed. And she has every right to be. I’m gonna make it up to her and pay her back.”

“Are you still together?”

“Not now. But I’ll work on winning her back when I get some breathing room with Murphy and Nia.”

“If she’s smart, she’d just walk away from your sorry ass.”

* * *

“We’re gonna clean up today,” Raven said.

“I hope you’re right.”

Clarke and Raven were in Raven’s car later that afternoon. “Trust me. O says this chick walks ten dogs in this building, at twenty bucks a pop. She’s gonna pay us in cash, baby. We just cover for her today and ca-ching! Your groceries for the month.”

“How does she walk so many?”

“She attaches their leashes to that master harness.” Raven pointed to a harness with shoulder straps at Clarke’s feet. “O said the dogs are all kinda small. So between the both of us, we should be fine.” The harness looked like a belt but was about four inches thick. A bunch of carabiner clips were attached to loops along the belt.

“Who’s wearing the harness?”

“You work out. You wear it.”

Clarke rolled her eyes. “How do we get the dogs?”

“It’s called breaking and entering.”

Clarke’s brows shot up. “What?”

“I’m kidding. I have these.” Raven reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a ring of keys. “Nobody’s home. We just pick the dogs up.”

“And why the rollerblades?”

“Ah, I’m brilliant! And you can thank me later. We’re gonna just rollerblade with the dogs. They’ll pull us around and we won’t even break a sweat. It’s exercise, without the exercise part.”

“Then it’s not exercise.”

Raven waved a hand. “Whatever. The cool part is the apartment building is right near the Kelly Drive loop trail.”

“Oh. That is cool. I love rollerblading around that.” The Kelly Drive loop trail was a paved trail over eight miles long and hugged both sides of the Schuylkill River. While on the trail, one could see such sights as the Philadelphia Museum of Art and Boat House Row. It was the most popular destination in the city for walking, riding bikes, jogging, etc.

Raven parked on the street in front of the apartment building. They entered and arrived at the first apartment. Before opening the door, Raven helped Clarke put on the harness. Then she flipped through the key ring, and when finding the correct one, she pushed it into the lock and opened the door. “This should be Henry.” They walked in and Raven called for the dog.

A tiny bundle of pugness charged into the room and jumped on them both.

“Oh my God! A pug!” Clarke knelt and gave the dog a good rub along his back, and he rolled over to show his appreciation. She laughed at his antics and thought _this just might be fun_. The best job yet at their blossoming business.

“Leash him up!” Raven said.

Clarke attached the leash to Henry’s soft flexible harness, then affixed the other end to one of the carabiner clips on the belt. “Ready!”

They moved through the building, attaching more and more dogs to Clarke’s waist. It was an odd assortment of Terriers, Beagles, Jack Russells, and other small mixed breeds. The last dog was a chocolate lab, and Raven decided she would walk that one by herself, since she was the biggest of the “pack.”

Once they made it outside, with ten dogs in tow, they went to the car and put their rollerblades on.

Clarke slowly got to her feet and re-checked the belt, making sure all clips were closed and all leashes were attached.

Raven joined her, with Bella the chocolate lab. “We ready?”

“Ready.”

They started off slow and Clarke was impressed with how well-behaved the dogs were. All seemed to know their place, and all kept the same pace. Their regular dog walker had them trained well.

“Look at you,” Raven teased. “Miss Professional Dog Walker. I gotta get a picture of this. Smile!”

Clarke turned and smiled, then made a few goofy faces. She was feeling it. People walking by clapped and pointed and took her picture. Some called out encouragement and some told her she was amazing. “This is fun. Can’t we get a regular gig doing this?”

“I don’t see why not. There must be dog walking opportunities closer to us.”

Both gals giggled and bantered with the other trail users. Raven was right, the dogs just pulled them along, with minimal effort on their part. Exercise without the exercise!

But as it was with most of Raven’s brilliant ideas, the good times didn’t last long.

They both failed to notice an innocent squirrel up ahead, out for a spring jaunt. Hunting for an acorn he had buried in the winter. But you know who did notice? Max, the Jack Russell. His eager bark alerted his pack mates to the prey up ahead, and they took off. Clarke was gone in a flash, and no amount of Raven screaming, “Clarke!” would bring her back. Her speed increased exponentially with the force of ten dogs in pursuit mode as the squirrel raced along the macadam. There was no stopping them.

Meanwhile, Raven puttered along with a barely trotting Bella, who was twenty pounds overweight and graying about the muzzle and showed no enthusiasm for squirrel hunting. Clarke and the pack were a disappearing dot careening down the path, now barely visible. “Clarke! Hang in there, buddy!” Raven hollered “I’ll find you!”

Raven dipped the cloth into the bowl of warm water. “Good thing you bought this first aid kit.”

Clarke winced every time Raven patted her knees. They had finally made it back to the store after returning all the dogs to their rightful homes. She was lucky. The only damage was bloody kneecaps. And her pride. The same people who clapped and told her she was awesome wandered by later and simply shook their heads in pity.

“Look at the bright side? You did just tell me you wanted new jeans. The kind with the holes in the knees.”

Clarke glanced down at her torn jeans. There _were_ holes in the knees. And the fabric along the thigh was now thread bare. And muddy. And full of grass stains. She picked off a few stray leaves that still clung to her arm.

“And the blood stains are a bonus, don’t you think?” Raven rubbed some ointment on the scrapes and placed a Band-Aid over them. “Adds some street cred to them.”

Clarke made a face. “I don’t think you’d call that a bonus.”

“You should post the video on Facebook.”

After treeing the squirrel and dragging Clarke along the ground in the process, a kindly biker had stopped by with a live action video of her, with mouth agape, a wild look of terror in her eyes, and arms flailing about as she flew along the trail. He had texted it to Raven when she finally caught up.

“I’m not posting it on Facebook.”

“How ‘bout Tik Tok?”

“How about next time you have a brilliant idea, you keep it to yourself.”

* * *

When Lexa answered the front door to her penthouse apartment in the prestigious Robert Stern Building later that night, there was Sandra, in a full-length belted trench coat, waving a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc. “I brought wine.” Her short, fiery-red hair stood straight up off her head and her cat-like amber eyes were encased in mascara. Bright pink lipstick completed the look. She swept past Lexa and headed straight for the kitchen in search of a corkscrew.

A bemused Lexa followed closely behind.

Sandra got out two crystal wine glasses and set them on the counter. She held up a corkscrew and made a show of pulling the cork from the bottle. Sandra was and always would be, theatrical and over-the-top. And sometimes, it was just what Lexa needed. She poured the wine, giving one crystal glass to Lexa and keeping one for herself. She took a healthy mouthful from the goblet and filled it again.

With a tug on Lexa’s free hand, she led her to the living room and with a gentle shove, pushed Lexa onto the couch. Stepping back, she loosened her belt and the coat fell open, revealing a lacy black bra and panties. “It’s been a while,” she purred. “I thought you forgot about me.”

Lexa’s eyes narrowed with lust. “Now how could I forget you.” The heat in her core settled at the top of her thighs, and moisture pooled in her panties. Her breath became shallow with anticipation. It had been a while. Too long.

Ten minutes later Lexa’s three fingers were buried inside Sandra’s slicked-up opening, pumping and thrusting. She sat on Lexa’s lap, head thrown back, egging her on. “Harder baby, harder. Oh God, don’t stop.” Her hips grinded in time with Lexa’s fingers and soon her walls clenched and spasmed and she cried out in pleasure. When she was spent, she collapsed in Lexa’s arms. “Fuck. You’re so good at this. Why don’t we do this more often?”

Lexa figured it was a rhetorical question and didn’t provide an answer. They both knew why they didn’t do it more often. Because it would become mundane. And Lexa had no interest in the mundane. And no interest in a commitment that went further than one night.

Sandra slid from her lap and sank to her knees. She yanked at Lexa’s belt. “I think you’re gonna need to send these pants to the dry cleaners,” she said with a wry smile.

Lexa shifted forward so Sandra could remove the now stained slacks. Her panties were next. Sandra spread her legs and licked her lips. Her head dipped down and Lexa gasped. Her fingers tangled in Sandra’s red hair as she pressed her head closer. A thrust of her hips was a silent entreaty for more.

Lexa’s mouth went slack as Sandra’s tongue and fingers brought her to the climax she needed to forget those blue eyes.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you go my peeps. Possibly a small bright spot in all our dreary lives. I hope everyone is safe. We're entering our third week of stay at home. What has everyone been doing? We've become professional walkers, doing between 3-5 miles a day. My legs feel great! And I dropped a few of those stubborn winter pounds finally.  
> Find my Facebook page [here](https://www.facebook.com/lorig.matthews.71).  
> Drop me a message on the messenger, cause I'm totes bored.
> 
> tumblr [here](https://lorig11.tumblr.com/).

[ ](https://imgur.com/PanHxt6)

Chapter Five

Clarke dismounted and locked the bike. Grabbing the four lunch bags, she rushed into the building, waving at the front desk security guard who now recognized her. She pushed the button to the elevator and waited. A quick check of her watch told her she was two minutes early. Good. She’d drop off the three lunches on the tenth floor, then head to fifteen, wanting to save Lexa’s for last. Hopefully she’d be in today, since she missed her yesterday. She was anxious to see how the flowers went over, and while it was nice meeting Gus, seeing Lexa would be better. Clarke didn’t bother to question the pulse of excitement in her veins at the thought of seeing her again. She brushed it off. It was just excitement at the thought of making someone happy. At putting a smile on those lips that seemed so damn perfect. That was all.

The elevator took her to the tenth floor, where she made quick work of delivering the lunches and gushing over the tips. Soon she was heading to the fifteenth floor. Suddenly, a nervous knot formed in her belly. What if Lexa was mad about the flowers? Hm. She didn’t think about that. Clarke just assumed everyone would love flowers.

Or what if she was allergic? What if Lexa spent the afternoon sneezing and wheezing because she was allergic to lavender? Crap. That would suck.

The elevator doors opened, and Clarke stepped into the hallway. Now she was nagged by self-doubt, and her feet slowed. Christ. Did she overstep the bounds of their very limited relationship? Was she way off base by bringing flowers and putting them in her office without asking first? It wouldn’t be the first time her impulsiveness got her in trouble.

She arrived at Gus’s desk filled with dread.

“Hi. Is that Lexa’s lunch?” he asked.

“Yeah. I’ll just leave it here.” Clarke placed the bag on his desk and was prepared to make a quick getaway.

“Hold on. I’ll let her know you’re here.”

An image of Lexa’s face, swollen from a near deadly allergic reaction, popped into her head. “No, you don’t have to.”

“Oh. I do.”

Clarke swallowed. _What the hell does that mean?_

Gus picked up the phone and pushed a button. “Your lunch is here.” He hung up before getting a reply. “She should be right out.” He winked.

Clarke swallowed again. _A wink_? Why the hell is he winking? Was Lexa going to rip into her for having the audacity of leaving flowers everywhere?

There was no time for answers, because the door to Lexa’s office swung open and she popped her head out. “Clarke. Come in.”

A relieved sigh escaped Clarke’s lips. Lexa’s face was not hideously covered in hives. But even if it was, could this woman ever be hideous? Clarke thought not. A shy, “Hi,” tittered from her lips.

The warm smile on Lexa’s face immediately put Clarke at ease. “Hi yourself.” She swept a hand to usher Clarke into her office.

Clarke walked into the office, and a pleasant hint of lilac hung in the air as Lexa’s perfume wafted around her. She inhaled deeply and caught herself admiring the whole package. The confidence, the cut of her suit, the graceful movements of Lexa’s body. This woman was a perfect ten. Chrissy Martin? Ha! Couldn’t hold a candle to Lexa Woods. What would it be like to kiss _her_? She imagined this woman would take command in the bedroom. Clarke’s pulse ticked faster at the thought of Lexa undressing her and taking charge. Distracted by these salacious thoughts, she didn’t realize Lexa was speaking to her. “I’m sorry. What?”

“I said I want to thank you for the flowers. They’re beautiful.”

“Thank God! I had a mini panic attack about five minutes ago.”

Lexa smiled. “Why?”

“I pictured you having an allergic reaction and hating me.”

She laughed. “No. I’m not allergic to flowers.”

“Good. You know your Gram texted and asked if I’d spruced up your office yet. And I was not going to disappoint her, so I brought flowers. Gus was an angel and found the vases.”

“Ah. Now I see. Three co-conspirators, conspiring against me.”

Clarke grinned. “Something like that.”

“Well, I think they’re lovely. And they add a bit of sunshine in here. I hope you didn’t spend all your tips on flowers for me, though.”

As per usual, Clarke didn’t think before answering. “They didn’t cost anything. The restaurant brings in fresh cut flowers every day, and they get rid of the old ones. So I asked if I could take them.” Clarke bit her lip. Jesus Christ, she sounded like a trash picker. Ugh. Might as well admit it. “And now it sounds like I’m a trash picker.”

Lexa chuckled. “It doesn’t matter where they came from. What do they say? It’s the thought that counts? And they don’t look like they came out of the trash.”

“To be clear, they weren’t actually in the trash. They were in a pile by the back door. So, almost trash, but not quite trash.”

“I see.”

Her eyes sparkled with humor, and Clarke found herself smiling back. And there it was again, an extra beat of eye lock. The maybe eye fuck.

“I hope I’m not keeping you from your deliveries.”

“No, this building is always my last one. I’m kinda off the clock now. I’m meeting Raven later and we’re gonna head out to Gram’s neighborhood to look for Caesar.”

“Good. She’s been so upset. Take a seat. I’m sure you’ve been running around for hours.”

Taking a load off was appealing, so Clarke slid into the chair in front of Lexa’s desk. “Thanks. I called all the shelters in the area and left my number. But I’ll keep calling in case they forget.”

“Thank you. We never discussed how I should pay you? Weekly?”

“Sure, that’ll work.”

“How about I write a check on Fridays and leave it with Gus in case I’m not here.”

“Okay.” Clarke’s belly chose this particular moment to loudly protest its lack of food. Heat rose to her cheeks at the guttural groaning.

“Are you hungry?”

“Ah, I guess I forgot to eat today.”

Lexa took her salad out of the bag. “Here, I can share this. I never finish it. And I had a breakfast meeting this morning and overindulged.”

“Oh no. I can’t eat your lunch.”

“Of course you can.” She picked up the hand receiver of her phone and pushed a button. “Gus, can you bring me two plates please? Yes. Thank you.”

“Please, you don’t have to do this.”

“I insist.”

Gus knocked and walked in carrying two white plates and silverware which he placed on Lexa’s desk. “Here you go.”

“Thank you,” Lexa said.

“You’re welcome,” he said with a breezy wave before heading back to his desk.

Clarke watched him leave the room. “He’s a big guy, like, professional football player big.”

“He’s a teddy bear. And his husband Gary’s a doll too.” Lexa began splitting the salad between the two plates and slid one over to Clarke, along with a fork and knife. “Maybe you’ll get to meet him someday. He pops in occasionally to bring us dinner on our late nights.”

Clarke comically narrowed her eyes. “As long as he’s not bringing your lunch. That’s my job, lady.” She was rewarded with another lovely smile. Eye fucking and lovely smiles. This was turning out to be a great day. Clarke salivated when she looked at the salad. She hadn’t eaten since last night. And all she had then was a bowl of dry cereal she bought at the convenience store on the corner. She hadn’t shopped for groceries yet, and her fridge was bare. She began digging in. After the second fork full, she glanced up and caught Lexa staring. “Aren’t you eating?”

She straightened and blinked before saying, “Yes. Do you want something to drink?”

Clarke dabbed her lips with a napkin and nodded. “Water is fine, if you have it.”

Lexa grabbed two bottles from the fridge and set them on the desk. After sitting down, she began eating.

An easy silence followed as they both dug into their salads.

“Do you always hum when you eat?” Lexa asked with a soft smile.

“Oh shit. Was I humming?”

Lexa nodded.

“I’ve done it since I was a kid. Probably a habit I should break.”

“No. It’s cute.” Lexa smiled again.

Clarke felt a blush burst into her cheeks. This put together, beautiful woman just said she was cute. Their eyes locked for a second or two, and Clarke looked away. Now that was a no-doubt-  
nothing-but-net eye fuck. An awkward silence followed, and Clarke felt compelled to blurt out, “Well, I’m probably humming because this salad is so good.”

“Their food is excellent. It’s my go-to place.”

“I delivered a tuna tartare to a guy on the tenth floor today that looked fantastic. Someday I’ll have to try it.”

“Don’t they feed you?”

“For free? No. And it would bust my budget right now to buy lunch there every day. Things are a little tight, but I’ll be back on my feet soon.” Never one to feel comfortable talking about her financial struggles, Clarke changed the subject. “So, is this your business? Or a family business?”

Lexa nodded. “It’s the family business. I’ve been working here since I was about ten.”

“Ten? Isn’t that against the law? I’m gonna ask Gram about child labor laws.”

Lexa chuckled. “I wasn’t on the payroll. My father brought me in, and I was like an errand girl for him. After college I started full time.”

“Did you start in the mail room? Isn’t that where all family members start?” Clarke teased.

“Not the mail room exactly. But close.”

“So this is the only job you’ve ever had?”

Lexa became thoughtful. “I guess so. How about you? You’re an artist, right?”

“Yeah. I haven’t sold a painting yet. Which means I’ve worked every job imaginable to pay the bills.” She began ticking off jobs on her fingers. “I’ve been a waitress, worked in retail, landscaping, and fast food. You name it, I’m sure I’ve done it. And now, I’m delivering lunches and finding lost pets.”

“Maybe you’ll sell a painting soon.”

“I hope so. Next month the Chestnut Street Art Gallery is letting local artists bring in their work. They’re offering free critiques, and two lucky artists will get their work displayed. I’m working on three paintings to submit.”

“Well, good luck.”

“Thanks.” Clarke finished her meal and sat back with a satisfied sigh. “That was delicious, thank you again.”

“You’re very welcome.”

Clarke could have sat there all day and basked in the eye fucking and lovely smiles, but duty called. And some self-meditation was in order. Like, why was she eye fucking a beautiful woman? “I should probably get going. I’m sure you’re busy.”

“It was a welcome break actually. Sometimes I forget to breathe, if you know what I mean.”

“Yeah. I do.”

They both rose and Lexa walked her out.

Clarke had no idea how to say goodbye, since there may have been eye fucking and what exactly did it mean if one eye fucked someone, so she kept her hands jammed in her front pockets and silently nodded goodbye. She started down the hallway and for some inexplicable reason turned around one last time, only to find Lexa staring after her. A wave was in order, so that’s what she did.

After Clarke left, Lexa tried to immerse herself in work, but her thoughts kept circling back to Clarke. How adorable that she hummed while eating. It was such a small joyful sound. And how thoughtful she was for bringing flowers. And how cute that Gram texted her.

She soon realized that she was sitting idly at her desk with a stupid grin on her face. Contracts needed signing, reports needed filing, and here she was, daydreaming about a woman she hardly knew. Evidently her dalliance last night with Sandra was not successful in banishing thoughts of the blonde from her mind. Maybe she wasn’t meant to be banished. Lexa decided to just roll with it. Clarke was simply a new person in her life. Meeting new people should be a welcome thing, not something to critique.

What would tomorrow’s lunch bring? Her bottom lip caught between her teeth as an idea popped into her head.

* * *

Clarke waited at the front of the store for Raven and Octavia to pick her up. A tooting horn announced their arrival.

O hung out the passenger window. “Hey, Clarke.”

“Hey girls.” Clarke froze before getting in the back seat. She found herself eyeball to eyeball with a huge brown and white short-haired dog.

“Get in,” Raven said. “Just move him over.”

Clarke carefully opened the door and squeezed in. After buckling up she studied the creature next to her. The dog nervously paced along the back seat of the car. His heavy panting sent swirls of noxious dog breath throughout the car. Two dangerous-looking dangles of white sticky saliva hung down four inches from each side of his loose jowls. Clarke moved as far away as the back seat would allow. “Who’s this?”

“Caesar.” Raven pulled back into the traffic flow. “I texted Lexa and told her we found him. She’s gonna meet us there since her Gram’s away for a few days.”

“Are you sure? Because he doesn’t look like the picture.”

“Sure he does.”

“I don’t think so. Where’s the flyer Lexa gave us?”

“Yeah about those. They blew out of my car on Market Street. I opened the car windows, and whoosh! They all just flew the fuck out.”

“Did you get a chance to put any up?”

“Uh, _no_. I told you. They blew outta the car.”

“Great.” Clarke ran a hand through her hair and looked at the dog in the back seat. “Where did you find him?” Clarke asked.

“He was a couple streets over from Gram’s place.”

“Was he wandering around?” O asked.

“Not exactly.”

Clarke looked askance at Raven. “What does _not exactly_ mean?”

Raven pursed her lips. “He was in a yard.”

“You pulled a dog out of a yard?”

“He was on a leash.”

Clarke’s voice rose an octave. “Who was on a leash?”

“Yep.”

O laughed. “Why was he on a leash if the yard was fenced in?”

“The fence was small. He could jump right over it.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because he jumped right over it when I took him off the leash.”

“Oh shit,” Octavia cackled. “How did you catch him?”

“I gave him my Doritos. Evidently, dogs like Doritos.”

O turned and looked at the dog. “I was wondering why he had orange on his mouth.”

Clarke was aghast at the whole mess. “So, let me get this straight. This dog was in a backyard, and he was also attached to a leash.”

Raven peeked into the rearview mirror. “What’s your point, Clarke?”

“My point is, it sounds like you stole a dog out of his own backyard. That’s my damn point.”

“What if it’s him? Doesn’t hurt to check it out.”

“I could think of better ways to check it out. Like taking a picture,” Clarke mumbled.

Her eyes landed on a stack of flyers on the floor. “Wait. Here’s some flyers.” She picked one off the top of the pile and was greeted by a large close-up of Raven holding an imaginary phone to her ear, and underneath the words, _I’ll sell your house. If you want. Call me!_

“What the hell is this?” Clarke held it up so the occupants of the front seat could see.

O laughed. “God. Where did you get that picture?”

“It’s a selfie I took last summer at the beach,” Raven said. “I think I look good.”

O grabbed the flyer. “Shouldn’t you use a professional photographer for something like this?”

“Do you know how much a professional photographer charges? I can’t afford that ‘til I sell a house. Besides, it’s a good picture.”

Clarke studied it. “Why are your eyes so wide? And you’re smiling with your mouth wide open.”

“I think I was excited. I can’t remember.”

“You look demented.”

“Where you gonna hang these up?” O asked.

“In Grandma Wood’s neighborhood. If I sell a house there, I can get all the professional pictures I want.”

“So instead of hanging up lost dog flyers, you’re gonna hang this deranged picture up,” Clarke said. “And you think someone’s gonna call you.”

“Trust me, they’ll call.”

Clarke was skeptical, but kept her mouth shut and settled into the back seat.

And then it happened. The dog was nervous and jittery, and he did what any nervous and jittery dog does. He gave a complete body shake, from head to toe, sending the aforementioned globs of dog spit everywhere. Nothing was safe. The back window, the side windows, the front windshield, the back of the front seats, the floor, the floor mats. And of course, Clarke was in the direct line of fire. “Oh my God!” she screamed. “Gross!”

Raven sought her out in the rearview mirror and made a face. “Wow. He’s drooly!”

“You think?”

O passed a napkin back to Clarke, and she wiped the goo from her face.

Raven took a napkin and cleaned the windshield. “Clarke, do we have a company credit card? I’m gonna need to get the car cleaned now.”

Silent dagger eyes answered her.

“What? It’s an expense. A write off.”

The gals pulled into the Woods driveway, and Clarke dropped the saliva filled nappies on the floor. She was pretty sure she smelled like dog spit.

“Damn. Nice house!” O said.

Raven parked and opened the back door, grabbing the dog’s leash.

Clarke got out the other side. “You coming in?” she asked Octavia.

“Damn straight. Can’t wait to see this.”

Raven dragged the dog to the front door and Clarke knocked.

Margaret opened the door and Raven burst past her. “We’ve found the dog, Margaret!”

The dog promptly peed on the oriental runner in the hallway.

Octavia made a face. “Uh-oh.”

Raven cupped a hand to her mouth. “Cleanup in aisle four!”

The dog snatched the long doily from the foyer table and shook it like a dead rabbit.

“I think he’s happy to be home,” Raven stated.

Margaret held a worried hand to her chest. “Oh my, I’ve got to clean that up. I’ll get Miss Lexa.”

The dog started howling as Margaret rushed out of the room.

Clarke scooped up the doily and the dog promptly grabbed it from her. A lively game of tug-of-war ensued. O joined in, grabbing one end, and the three of them jostled around the room, banging into and knocking over anything not nailed down.

“Jesus Christ.” Soon it was in tatters. Clarke tried to piece it together, but it was unsalvageable. She placed it on the table and prayed no one would notice.

The dog busied himself by chewing on the leg of the table.

Lexa appeared in the hallway and gave an emphatic point. “Whoa! Who’s that?”

A tiny moan crawled up Clarke’s throat.

Raven blanched. “It’s Caesar.” After a pregnant pause, she continued, “Isn’t it?”

Lexa gave a wry smile. “Nope.”

“Oh.” Raven’s shoulders sagged. “Damn. He had balls so I thought it was him, you know? He had _the balls_.”

“Ah. Yes.” Lexa paused. “I think the similarities may end there though.” She cocked her head to one side and studied the animal. “That might be Marky Mark the mastiff.”

“Who’s that?”

“He belongs to the neighbor’s two streets over.”

Raven looked off in the direction that was indeed two streets over. “Sounds about right.” She took a deep breath. “Guess we’ll take him back.”

“Good idea.”

Clarke’s cheeks were flushed pink with embarrassment. She glanced at Margaret, who had magically reappeared with cleaning supplies in hand. “Margaret, do you want me to help with that?”

The unflappable Margaret waved a hand. “Don’t you worry, I’ll get it.”

A mortified Clarke didn’t even chance a look at Lexa. “We’ll just get going, sorry to bother you. Margaret, we’re so sorry about the mess. Rae? Let’s go, please.” She yanked Raven’s arm and the two hustled out the door with Fido in tow. “Jesus Christ, you stole someone else’s dog,” she hissed.

Lexa and Octavia followed them out the door.

Raven put the dog in the back seat, closed the door and placed her hands on her hips. “Okay. We’ll put him back where we found him.”

“We?” Clarke shoved her in the car and looked helplessly at Lexa. “I’m really, really sorry.”  
She expected annoyance, or anger in those green eyes, instead they twinkled with amusement.

“It’s okay, Clarke.”

“Um, can you text me a picture of the dog?” Clarke asked sheepishly. “We, ah, seemed to have lost the flyers.”

“Do I want to know how you lost them?”

Clarke repeatedly shook her head from side to side. “No. No you don’t.” Clarke slid into the back seat.

Before driving off, Raven handed her another napkin. “You missed a spot.”

Clarke’s brows drew together. “What?”

“You have a huge glob of dog spit right next to your ear.”

Clarke sat forward and peered into the rearview mirror. Sure enough, a sticky bit of spooge perched above her ear. “Oh my God!” She wiped it off and threw the napkin on the floor with the rest of them.

Raven’s eyes met Clarke’s in the mirror. “I’m not even gonna say what that looked like.”

“Don’t. Just don’t.” Clarke blew out an aggravated breath. So much for eye fucking. Who would eye fuck someone with bugs and spit in her hair? Spit that looked like…don’t say it. Just don’t.

“We should watch _Something About Mary_ tonight.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't hysterical, but merely a snapshot into my silly life.  
> I’m sure at one time I shared the fact that one of our kitties, Andre, aka Piss Boy, likes to start meowing, rather loudly, at 4am. Every fucking morning. He started this a couple years ago. Let me back up. We don’t allow the cats in the bedroom. The wife is highly allergic. Her throat basically closes up, so it’s more than a sneezing, itching, watery eyes kinda thing. So anyway, we had a master bedroom suite built a few years ago, and we made the decision to have no more cats in the bedroom. Soon after moving into our new suite, Andre started coming to the door and crying. Every morning. Then he started clawing under the door and shaking the shit out of it. It was our own personal 4am alarm. Only I don’t get up at fucking 4am. So we had to figure out a way to get him away from the door. There’s a hallway that leads to our bedroom, so I bought a dog gate with a swing open door and placed it down the end of the hallway. He would still cry and whine, most times still waking us up. Luckily, neither he nor his twin bro would jump the gate. I don’t know why, it’s not overly tall. But they didn’t. Anyway, the crying continued, so we needed to muffle the sound. I get a box fan that sits on the floor. I turn it on high and point it right at the gate. That fucker blows like a gale, so surely any cat would be scared. Not our Piss Boy! He just screamed louder, in short bursts. Like he would scream, then run away. I mean, really, you have to give it to him, he knew he had to be louder to be heard. So the fan was out. Different muffling would be needed! Along the hallway is a closet, and a small laundry area with a double door. I came up with the brilliant idea of throwing a blanket over the gate and opening all the doors in the hallway to create sound barriers. It was better! For two whole days. Then one morning we heard a thump. We both woke up. “We’ve got a breach. We’ve got a breach!” Now that there was a blanket over the gate, Jasper, the other twinnie, was able to jump the fence. (I guess he clawed his way over.) We heard him milling about the hallway, navigating through what I thought were my impenetrable barriers. Soft meows gave away his progress. He arrived at our door within 30 seconds. Then the second thump. Andre had followed and promptly set up shop at the door screaming. Back to the drawing board. I placed a second dog gate above the first, also with a blanket thrown over it. And that worked. Until the night I left a 8” gap between the gates, cause I was being lazy or whatever. Sure enough. 4am. Those fuckers slipped thru the gap. Lesson learned. The other gate now rests directly on top of the other. It appears to be working. However, the wife has to crawl on her knees through the lower gate every morning because, she says, “I’m not taking that top gate down, it’s too hard.” It looks like hell, but for the most part, it works. I’m an ingenius fucking badass. Go me. Until the next breach, then I’ll be back to being a moron.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know some of you have commented on the eye fucking. Got that expression from lucky #9 while I was writing Sleepless. She was describing how all my stories go, and she said something about my characters always eye fucking forever before hooking up. I thought it was a hoot so I used it here.
> 
> Find my Facebook page [here](https://www.facebook.com/lorig.matthews.71).  
> Drop me a message on the messenger, cause I'm totes bored.
> 
> tumblr [here](https://lorig11.tumblr.com/).

Chapter Six

[ ](https://imgur.com/E97iSZe)

Check out Dufus. This dog never fails to amuse me. She's perched perfectly, while another dog pees on the stump. LOL.

Atomic Brunette saw this sign and thought of the Pet Investigator sign in Chapter 2. If anyone else sees a funny sign with missing lights, send it to me.

Chapter Six

On Friday afternoon, Clarke parked the bike at Lexa’s building and headed inside. She glanced down at the list of orders. Today Lexa had ordered two lunches. Her usual and the tuna tartare. Perhaps she had a meeting today with someone, which was mildly disappointing, since it probably meant she wouldn’t have time to chat. Clarke had wanted to apologize again for the dog fiasco yesterday. She’d hoped they could both laugh at the mistaken identity.

After dropping off lunches on the lower floors, she punched the button for fifteen. When the elevator doors opened, she hustled down the hallway to Gus’s desk. 

“Hi, Gus.”

“Hi, Clarke. How are you?”

“I’m good.”

“Oh, this is for you.” He opened his desk drawer and withdrew an envelope with Clarke’s name on it.

She peeked inside and saw a check for $400. Her eyebrows rose. This must be for their four days of pet detectiving, albeit unsuccessful pet detectiving. They needed to step up their game and find Caesar, because it didn’t seem fair to charge so much. She closed the envelope and tucked it inside pocket of her jacket. “I have two lunches today.”

“Yeah. Hold on, let me buzz her.” He pressed the intercom. “Clarke’s here.” 

Clarke smiled at the familiarity. Was this becoming their routine now? A warmth settled inside her chest, because she liked it. The routine that is.

Lexa opened the door and poked her head out. “Hi.”

“Hi yourself.”

“C’mon in.”

Clarke brought the bags in and was surprised to find an empty office. Was there no one else here to eat the second lunch? There were two place settings on the desk, so maybe the other person hadn’t arrived yet. 

Lexa waved a hand at the empty chair in front of her desk. “Sit down.”

“Okay. Are you expecting someone?”

“No, why?”

“I guess you’re super hungry then. I have two lunches.” She removed the food from the bag and then collapsed into the chair. “Phew. I had a ton of orders today, so I’m sorry if I’m a little late.”

“Don’t worry about it. You’re not that late.”

Clarke leaned forward. “Look, about yesterday, with the whole wrong dog thing. I’m really sorry.”

Lexa chuckled. “No worries. It was kinda funny actually.”

“I’m glad you can laugh about it. Poor Margaret was stuck with the mess.”

“She had it cleaned up in no time. And she repaired the runner on the table.”

Clarke groaned and covered her eyes. “Oh crap. I forgot about that.”

“What happened to it?”

“The damn dog grabbed it, and when I tried to take it from him, he thought I was playing tug-of-war. Nearly tore my arm out of the socket.”

Lexa laughed again. “I wish I would’ve seen that.”

“I had nightmares about that dog last night. No thanks to Raven. She’s hell bent on this pet detective thing all of a sudden. I mean, I am too, but now she’s building a website, and putting ads in the paper. I think we have four lost pets to look for now.”

“Well, that’s good. You said you’d be back on your feet in no time, and if your business takes off, it’ll be quicker than you thought. Did you get the check?”

“I did, thank you. I feel bad because we haven’t done much to earn it.”

Lexa tutted. “Nonsense. You’re devoting a lot of time and energy. And it’s much appreciated.”

Clarke dipped her head in acknowledgement. “Well, let’s hope we can find him soon.”

Lexa opened the container and scraped her salad onto the plate in front of her. She nodded in Clarke’s direction. “Eat.”

Clarke’s mouth dropped open in surprise. “What?”

“That’s your lunch. You said you wanted to try the tuna.”

“This is for me?”

“Yes. Of course.”

“I should pay you for it.”

“Don’t be silly. It’s my treat. So please, eat.”

Clarke wanted to protest, wanted to say it was too much. But her mother always told her to just say thank you to someone when they do something nice. Don’t belittle the gesture by saying ‘you shouldn’t have’, or, ‘I don’t deserve this.’ Accept people’s kindness for what it was, just simple kindness. “This is really...God...this is really sweet. Thank you.”

She was rewarded with a soft smile. “You’re welcome.”

“And you remembered I wanted to try the tartare.”

“I did.”

Clarke beamed back at her. “What a memory. I’m impressed.”

“Don’t be. It was just yesterday.”

They both shared another laugh.

Clarke pulled her chair closer to the desk and put the tartare on the plate. After the first bite, she closed her eyes in ecstasy. She loved spicy food, and the zesty bite of the jalapeno and wasabi sauce brought tears to her eyes. “Oh man. This is delicious. Try some.” She put a healthy amount on the fork and leaned across the desk, taking aim at Lexa’s mouth.

Lexa didn’t hesitate. The food slid into her mouth and she thoughtfully chewed. After swallowing, she agreed. “That’s really good. Spicy, but good.”

“I hear the burgers are great too.”

“We’ll have to try them next time.”

Next time? Clarke tried not to show surprise. Was a shared lunch going to be a regular occurrence now? If so, it was welcomed, because Clarke found Lexa to be an enjoyable companion. “I didn’t peg you for a burger gal.”

“Why not? I love burgers.”

“I guess I thought you’d be more...healthy?”

“Nope. I love all types of food. I am indiscriminate,” she said with pride.

Clarke also loved food and was happy to have found a partner in crime. 

They ate in silence for a few moments. The only sound was Clarke’s humming and the silverware scraping along the plates.

“So what are your favorite flowers?” Clarke asked. “I can keep an eye on the dumpster for them.” She comically winked. “Nothing but the best for you.” 

Lexa’s shoulder’s shook with laughter. She glanced around the room at the various vases. “I’m not sure I have a favorite. I love all these.”

“No favorite? Nothing former lovers may have given you?” Clarke asked cheekily.

She pursed her lips in thought. “I can count on one hand how many times former girlfriends have given me flowers.”

“Really? That’s surprising.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. You’re gorgeous. I would think they would’ve all given you flowers.” Clarke swore she saw a soft pink hue appear in Lexa’s cheeks. And it was adorable. Imagine, this very put together woman blushing. 

“By the way, I want to hang some paintings on the wall,” Lexa said.

“Oh yeah?”

“And I thought of you. You’re an artist. I need paintings. It’s perfect.”

Clarke’s fork stopped halfway to her mouth. “You want one of my paintings?”

“Yes. I’d like a few actually.”

“But you’ve never seen my work.”

Lexa shrugged. “I trust your talent. I would pay for them of course.”

“Okay. But if you don’t like them, you don’t have to buy them, deal?”

“Deal.”

“I keep them in a storage unit on Market Street. Actually, I’m heading over there tonight because I need to pick something up.”

“Well, why don’t I come with you, and we can pick some out?”

“Okay, sure. Did you wanna meet there? I can give you the address.”

“Why don’t I just pick you up at the store?”

“Cool. How about six?”

“Sounds like a plan.” Lexa sat back after finishing her lunch. “I had a thought. I know quite a few people who are always looking for pet sitters, for when they go away. Maybe you could expand your business and include that. It can be quite lucrative. Some people I know pay a hundred dollars a night for someone to stay with their pets. And I’d be willing to vouch for you.”

Clarke had no idea why she continued to be surprised at the sweetness of one Lexa Woods. “You’d do that?”

“Of course.”

Clarke grinned. “Thanks. I have to say. You’ve shot my first impression of you to hell.”

Lexa’s eyes widened. “I’m almost afraid to ask what your first impression was.”

Clarke made a goofy face. “Well. I kinda thought you were a hard ass.”

Lexa laughed. “No! Is that what you thought?”

Clarke bit her lip and nodded. “Yeah. Pretty much. But—” she pointed a finger in the air, “—I realized the error of my ways. Or thoughts I guess I should say. You are probably…one of the nicest people I’ve ever met.”

Another slight blush peppered Lexa’s cheeks, followed by the now standard, first of the day, eye-fuck. The shared look lasted five seconds, which may not seem like long in the grand scheme of things, but in terms of eye fucking, it was an eternity.

Alas, duty called, and Clarke had errands to run. And an outfit to pick out for tonight. She forced herself to stand. “I should go and let you get back to work. Do you want me to wash the plates?”

Lexa shook her head. “Don’t worry about it.” She rose and followed Clarke out the door.

Clarke walked down the hallway and turned. She knew Lexa would still be watching. She just knew. “I’ll see you later. Six-o-clock!”

“Sharp!”

* * *

After work, Lexa stood in her walk-in closet with hands on hips, debating what to wear. She initially pulled out her navy-blue trousers and a white V-neck sweater. After nibbling on her lip for a few minutes, she hung both items back on the rack. Her Gram’s voice echoed in her head. _Let your hair down_.

Ten minutes later, she stared into the mirror. The dark jeans looked nicer than the light pair, so she decided on those. The button-down rose-colored blouse was at first untucked, but she thought it sloppy, so it was now tucked. There was only so much hair-letting-down she could take at one time. Baby steps. Her calf-high black boots had a minimal heel. Definitely casual.

On a whim, she pulled her braid loose and shook her hair out. It fell softly around her shoulders in long, shimmering waves. She nodded at her reflection. The hair was officially down. What about make-up? Maybe a touch of eye liner and lipstick? Suddenly, she was struck with how ridiculous she was being. They were going to a storage unit. A storage unit! Why was she making such a big deal about her appearance? Clarke was just an acquaintance for God’s sake. Nothing more.

Maybe another hookup with Sandra was in order.

She applied the eye liner and lipstick.

At exactly six p.m., Lexa knocked on the Pet Investigator door, which was currently locked. She cupped her hands around her eyes and peered in.

In a flash, Clarke, clad in skinny jeans and a tight red T-shirt, ran from the back room and hurried over. She unlocked the door and ushered Lexa in. “Sorry. I lock it when I’m alone.” 

“I don’t blame you. One can never be too safe.” Lexa glanced around approvingly. The place was cleaned up and the walls freshly painted. A couple of paintings adorned the walls, and she wondered if they were Clarke’s. All of them were beautiful. “It looks nice in here.”

Clarke laughed. “Oh right! Last time you were here it was still a disaster. I painted the walls a few days ago, so it smells.”

“Are these paintings yours?”

“Yeah. Do you like them?”

She gave an appreciative nod. “I love them.”

Clarke jammed her hands into her back pockets, and Lexa could tell she was pleased with the compliment. 

“Thanks. Come back here, I’ll show you what I’ve been working on for the gallery submission.”

Lexa followed Clarke into the back room and was surprised to see a bed and dresser. Was Clarke sleeping here? A sudden protectiveness surged through her chest. Was it safe? Was the back door secure enough? “Do you live here?” 

Lexa’s sharp tone meant to convey concern, but Clarke misread it. Her embarrassment was evident in her body as her shoulders hunched and her head hung low. With a stammer, she said, “Uh, yeah. Um. For now. I know it’s not much to look at, but as soon as I get enough cash, I’m gonna find a better place.”

Lexa felt bad. She touched Clarke’s arm. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound like I was judging you. I was more concerned for your safety.”

Clarke brightened. “Oh. It’s safe. Sort of.”

Lexa’s brows lowered. “Sort of?”

“It’s nothing. Just some kid tried to get in the other night. He ran away.”

“That doesn’t sound safe.”

“It’s nothing I can’t handle. So, anyway. Here’s one of the paintings I’m going to submit. Just finished it last night.”

On the easel was a lovely painting of colorful cottages dotted along a cobblestone street that dipped down to the ocean. It reminded Lexa of the small towns of coastal Italy. “This is stunning,” she said with admiration.

“Really?”

“Really.” She found herself unable to look away from those eyes. Why were they so magnetic? They were pretty, yes, but a lot of people had blue eyes. What made these so special? Was it the warmth in their depths? Or the genuineness? Or the small flicker of shared attraction she swore was there? It was subtle, but Lexa could _feel_ it. It had been so long since she felt drawn to someone. Since Costia. “I was thinking about what you said yesterday, about submitting your work to The Chestnut Street Art Gallery.”

“Yeah?”

“I know the curator. She’s an acquaintance of mine, Anya Foster. I’d be happy to put in a good word for you.”

“That is…so nice of you. It really is. And I don’t wanna seem ungrateful, but.” She fiddled with a loose thread at the top of her jeans. “I wanna earn it on my own. I wanna be able to say, I did this. Know what I mean?”

Lexa hoped her answering smile conveyed the warmth she felt right now. Clarke’s determination to stand on her own two feet was admirable. “Of course, I know what you mean, and I admire you for it.” She resisted the urge to tuck an errant lock of hair behind Clarke’s ear.

“I guess we should get to the storage unit while it’s still light out.”

“Yes. Of course.”

They walked into the main part of the store. Suddenly, Clarke grabbed Lexa’s arm and gasped. “Oh shit. He’s back.”

Lexa took a quick look around. “Who’s back?”

“Him.” A shaking finger pointed toward the plate glass window.

Lexa saw the ears and eyes of a cat. “You mean the cat?”

“Oh. Not just a cat. A _black_ cat.”

Lexa chuckled at the worry etched in Clarke’s face. “It’s a cat...who happens to be black.”

Clarke turned wide eyes toward her. “He’s bad luck. He showed up the other night. Right before that kid tried to break into the back door.”

“Don’t you think it was probably a coincidence?”

Clarke was back to staring at the feline in question. She slowly shook her head. “No. He’s out to get me.”

“You have a thing with cats, don’t you?” 

Clarke looked at her questioningly. 

“That first day I met you, remember? You had a run in with a cat.”

“Jonesy. Yes.”

“Jonesy.” Lexa nodded before adding, “Was that the cat or the inchworm?”

Clarke guffawed. “Oh my God, the inchworm. I swear I did not know I had a worm in my hair. Raven told me after you left. I told her you were staring at it and she said you probably didn’t even notice.”

Lexa laughed with her. “I had no idea what to think.”

“I was a mess that night. You must’ve been horrified.”

“A little.”

They both started laughing again.

“At least the next time you saw me I was showered,” Clarke said.

“Yes. I was quite surprised under all that filth was a very beautiful woman.” 

Clarke’s laughter died down and Lexa thought perhaps she’d said too much. She was saved from any awkwardness by the disappearance of the cat.

Clarke again pointed to the window. “He’s gone. Maybe we should get going before he comes back.”

They arrived at the storage unit and Lexa chose three paintings for the office walls. After much haggling over price, Lexa wanting to pay too much and Clarke charging too little, they loaded them into the car.

Lexa had the urge to ask Clarke out to dinner, but thought it might be too soon, or too impulsive. So she dropped her off and headed home.

Once inside her apartment, she poured a glass of wine and settled onto the couch. She stared at her phone. Should she text Sandra? Something held her back. It didn’t feel right. Perhaps another night. Clarke was at the forefront of her brain, and she decided she wanted to keep her there. For the time being. She closed her eyes and replayed the evening in her head. She had fun. When was the last time she could say that? And she couldn’t remember ever laughing so much either. Clarke was different. Different from the women who usually moved within her social circle. It was easy being with her. There wasn’t a pretentious bone in her body. How refreshing to be with someone who wasn’t concerned about status and money. And she had a charm that was infectious.

It was Friday, so she had to wait two days to see her again. She looked again at her phone. She swiped the screen and Sandra’s contact information disappeared. 

* * *

The following morning, Lexa breezed through the front door of Gram’s house and joined the Saturday morning crew in the kitchen. After kissing everyone hello, she sat in a chair, and with a flourish, placed the napkin in her lap. “How is everyone today?”

Gram sat back. “Well, you look vibrant this morning.”

“Thank you, Gram.” When Margaret appeared, she placed her order. “The usual, Margaret. Thank you.”

Gram continued to study her. “You must have closed a big deal. You only look this happy when something wonderful happens at work.”

“Now, that’s not true. I’m always happy.”

Gram cocked a brow. “I know you, Rexi. What big deal did you close?”

Lexa shook her head. “It’s not work. I’m…I don’t know. I guess I’m just in a great mood today.” She shrugged, but she could tell Gram still wasn’t convinced. “I am working on a very large proposal, but that’s still weeks away from being submitted.”

“I knew it.” Gram sipped her coffee and winked at Lila. “Work.”

Margaret brought out breakfast and sat down to join them.

Lila clicked her tongue. “I don’t think it’s work, Cat.”

“What else could it be?”

“I’m not sure. But I don’t think it’s work related.”

“Hm. Now I’m curious, aren’t you?”

Lexa sensed something more was going on. Something behind the scenes with these two. She jabbed a fork at both. “What are you up to?”

“Whatever do you mean, dear?” Gram asked with wide innocent eyes.

Lexa put her fork down. “Don’t play coy with me.”

Gram put a hand to her throat. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She began eating her poached egg.

Lexa was starving, and the omelet in front of her was drool-worthy, so she dropped it. She’d pry it out of them after they were done eating.

“We took a nice long walk last night. Didn’t we Lila?”

Lila nodded.

“What did you do last night, Rexi? Did you spend it with anyone?” Gram asked.

So much for prying it out of them later. Lexa hid a grin. They knew. They knew Lexa spent time with Clarke last night. Their ruse was up. “I, ah, met Clarke last night and bought a few of her paintings.”

The look of feigned surprise on Gram’s face almost made her laugh out loud. Gram was never good at subterfuge. She would get fleeced in a poker game.

“Really? You met Clarke? Our pet detective?”

And Lexa did laugh then. “Oh c’mon, Gram. I know you’ve been texting. She told me.”

Lila giggled. “The jig is up, Cat.”

Gram waved a dismissive hand. “Yes. Well. We did chat once or twice.”

“Sounded like more than once or twice.” Lexa bit into her toast.

“Maybe it was. I don’t remember. I’m so glad you bought some paintings from her. She’s a lovely girl. Maybe I should buy some.”

“You should,” Lexa said. “They’re beautiful.”

“What did you say? She’s beautiful?”

Lexa swallowed quickly. “I said _they_ were beautiful. The paintings were beautiful.”

“Oh. Well, I think Clarke is beautiful also. Don’t you Lila?”

“She’s very pretty.”

Margaret joined in. “She has a natural beauty.”

Lexa groaned. A small sound only she could hear.

Why did it feel like she was suddenly caught up in a large-scale matchmaking scheme?

* * *

“Where did you get the trap?” Clarke asked.

“A friend of Lincoln’s,” Raven said.

It was ten p.m. on Sunday night, and both gals sat hidden behind a picnic table in the backyard of a quiet neighborhood in Roxborough. A picture of a long-haired gray and black cat sat on the ground next to them, with the name, “Fluffy” at the top.

“Are you sure this will work?” Clarke asked.

“Trust me. I did some research. Cats love grape jelly. And the neighbor said they saw it last night.” She patted Clarke’s leg. “We’ve got this. And then it’s another fifty bucks for you.”

“I thought cats liked fish.”

“I don’t know. Maybe it said fish. All I had was grape jelly.”

Clarke stretched her legs out on the patio and sighed. 

“So, your girlfriend bought you lunch on Friday.”

“Stop it. She’s not my girlfriend.” No way was Clarke going to reveal all the possible eye fucking. “It was really thoughtful though. The day before I told her the tuna tartare looked delicious. And I showed up Friday with two lunches, and she tells me to sit and eat.”

“Uh-huh.”

“What?”

“It was a date.”

“It wasn’t a date. It was lunch.”

“Whatever. Sounds like she digs you. Or you looked emaciated and she felt sorry for you.”

“Well, when I sat with her the day before, my stomach did rumble. So it was probably a pity lunch.” Pity was easier to process.

“It’s kinda cool that she bought some of your paintings.”

“I know. She’s really sweet. Not at all like I imagined. Oh. We shared a laugh over the inchworm. I told you she saw it.” Clarke smiled as she thought of their belly laughs. “And she called me beautiful,” she said softly.

“When did she say that?”

Clarke gazed into the distance. That compliment had caused all sorts of odd sensations inside her chest.

“Clarke!”

“Huh? What?”

“When did she call you beautiful?”

“After we laughed about the inchworm. She said when I showed up the next day, all showered and de-wormed of course, she was surprised under all the filth was a beautiful woman.”

Raven whistled in admiration. “Wow. That’s a helluva compliment my friend. She totes digs you. You need to tap that. I bet she’s good in bed.”

Clarke gently whacked her bestie. “Stop.”

“What? What have you got to lose? I’ve been telling you for years sex with women is fantastic. Bout time you tried it. And I couldn’t think of a hotter woman to try it with.” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

“Stop.” Clarke surprised herself by not rejecting Raven’s suggestion with more force. For not dismissing it out of hand. For not declaring it off the table.

And why didn’t she reject the whole notion? Because secretly, she’d been entertaining similar thoughts. All weekend, she’d fantasized about Lexa and what it would be like to be more than acquaintances. What it would be like to be the object of her affection and desires. She shivered just thinking about it.

“You cold? You can have my jacket, I’m hot.”

Clarke rubbed her hands along her arms to dispel the goosebumps. Sexual goosebumps, obviously. Because she wasn’t cold at all. “No. I’m okay.”

After thirty minutes of patiently stalking their steel, animal trap, they heard some rustling on the patio and the telltale sound of the hinged door slamming shut.

“Bingo!” Raven put a fist in the air. “Let’s go get Fluffy.”

They stood and walked over to the cage, peering in. 

“I see eyes,” Raven triumphantly declared. 

“Should we make sure it’s him?”

“I can see some gray. Gotta be him. Let’s take him home.” Raven grabbed the handle of the trap and groaned. “Shit. This cat is heavy.”

They lugged the cage two doors down and rang the bell. Mrs. Brown threw open the door. “Did you find him?”

Raven and Clarke swept through the door, all smiles.

Clarke spread her arms wide. “We’ve got him!”

Raven set the cage down and opened the door. “All right Fluff, you’re home.”

Nothing emerged. 

All three women peered anxiously at the trap.

Clarke placed her hands on her hips. “He’ll be out in a sec,” she assured Mrs. Brown.

Raven nudged the cage with a foot and cupped a hand to her mouth. “Fluffy, c’mon down!”

And Fluffy did ‘come on down,’ only he didn’t come out of the cage, he pattered down the stairs and came to a dramatic stop at the landing. _“Meow.”_

Mrs. Brown put a hand to her chest. “Fluffy! Where were you?”

Clarke and Raven exchanged a panicked look.

“Who’s in the cage?” Clarke asked.

Raven shrugged. “Let’s see.” She nudged the cage again. “Hellooo?”

After a few seconds of inactivity, she tilted the back end of the cage up, and before Clarke could shout, “No!” out tumbled a gray and white ball of fur.

* * *

“Well this first aid kit is certainly getting a workout.” Raven attended to the new wounds on Clarke’s face.

They were back at the store, Clarke scowling and Raven dabbing.

“And thank God he didn’t bite you. Then you’d be getting rabies shots.” Raven applied some antibacterial ointment on the two scrapes on Clarke’s chin. 

Clarke remained mute, stewing in anger.

“And it was kinda funny that Fluffy was in the house the whole time, wasn’t it?”

“Hysterical.”

“It could’ve been a lot worse. At least you caught that glass vase before it hit the ground. Shame you banged your chin on the ground. And O has a steam cleaner, so we can clean those carpets.”

“We?”

Raven put the lid on the ointment and sat back with folded arms. “Okay. My bad. I should’ve checked what was in there before opening the door.”

“You think? Cause I certainly remember telling you to do that. And if you had, then maybe I wouldn’t be permanently disfigured.”

“It’s two very minor scratches.”

“From chasing one very large RACCOON!” 

“Who _was_ gray and white. Just sayin’.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How about Fluffy being in the house the whole time? Cats are assholes. And I say that affectionately, having owned one or more for the last thirty years.  
> True story. Years ago, my bff was going out of town on vacation. She calls me in a panic because her two cats escaped outside, and she couldn’t find them, and she had a plane to catch. She was beside herself. So I did what any good bff would do, I volunteered to come over and look for them. She lives about 40 minutes away, so I hopped in the car. I arrived at her house, and went on a reconnaissance mission around her back yard. I looked under shrubs, and bushes, crawled on my belly to peer under her shed. I walked around the surrounding houses, I talked to neighbors. I’m calling for them. People think I’m nuts. I can tell by the look on their faces. I tried to explain that I was looking for cats, but they just glared and pulled their children away from me. After a couple of hours, I’m filthy and hot and hungry. No luck. I’m beaten down. Depressed, because I wanted to find them for her. I end up wandering into her backyard again, for one last look and happen to glance at the sun room on the back of the house. And there, in the window, staring back at me, were her two cats, prob. thinking, “Yo asshole, why do you keep screaming our names?”  
> Motherfuckers!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Friday! Hope everyone is doing okay in these still trying times. Enjoy the chapter.
> 
> Find my Facebook page [here](https://www.facebook.com/lorig.matthews.71).  
> Drop me a message on the messenger, cause I continue to be totes bored.
> 
> tumblr [here](https://lorig11.tumblr.com/).

Don't ask. I have no idea what she's doing.

Funny sign from the Great Wanheda. It's all about the pretty, people!

Chapter Seven

Clarke slid into the booth at the IHOP on Walnut Street. Finn rose to give her a hug, but she quickly shut him down. “Don’t bother.”

Sensing her anger, he quickly sat back down. With a bowed head, he said, “Thanks for meeting me.”

Clarke nodded curtly. He’d been begging for a chance to explain things, and she finally caved. Besides, her curiosity was piqued. What could he possibly have to say for himself?

The waitress greeted them, and both ordered coffee.

“How are you?” Finn asked after the waitress left.

“How am I? I’m drowning in debt thanks to you.”

“I know.” He rubbed his face and sighed.

“And I was almost killed. Let’s not forget that.”

He had the gall to say, “I don’t think they would’ve killed you.”

“Sorry. I exaggerated,” she said sarcastically. “They were just going to cut off my fingers.” She held up both hands. “I paint. Not having fingers would be problematic.”

He did manage to look apologetic. “I’m really sorry for everything that happened.”

“Why did those guys tear up your apartment? Why were they looking for all that money?”

They were interrupted again by the arrival of their coffee. After polite thank you’s to the server, they both stirred sugar and creamer into their mugs.

Finn blew out a breath before speaking. “I owe them a lot of money.”

“Who are they? Bookies?”

“Yeah. I placed a large bet on the game in February and lost.”

“That was all from one bet?”

He looked off to the left. “Well, it was more than one bet. I’ve had a bit of bad luck for the last year.”

“So you’re a gambler. And a bad one at that.”

He avoided eye contact and simply nodded.

“And you opened a credit card in my name, why?”

“I used it for some on-line gambling sites.”

“Oh nice. Great. Do you have the card on you? Because it’s in my name and I want it.”

He dug into his back pants pocket and pulled out his wallet. “I was making payments on it.”

“Ha. Minimum payments. Which means it’ll take me a lifetime to pay it off.” Clarke glared at him after verifying it was the right card. “Is this the only one?”

He nodded. “I swear, I’m...I’m gonna pay you back,” he stuttered.

“How you gonna do that? Sounds like you owe a shit ton of money. To me and your fucking bookies.”

He flinched at the profanity. “I’ll pay you back. That’s a promise. Please believe me.”

“Believe you? Ha! Fat chance.”

He reached across the table and grasped her hand. “Please Clarke. I miss you. Come home. I’ll give you a check every week to pay this off. I promise.”

Clarke looked down at their clasped hands. Two months ago, she would have loved the public display of affection, now it turned her stomach. She slowly withdrew her hand. “Finn. I’m not coming home.” She put imaginary quotes around ‘home.’ “And we’re not getting back together.”

He sat back. “I fucked up. I know I fucked up—”

“Oh, you fucked up, all right.”

“I know you’re pissed…” Before Clarke could express her frustration again, he held up a hand and continued, “and I totally understand. You have every reason to be angry. And maybe right now you don’t wanna get back together. I get it. But keep an open mind. I’ll pay you back, and I’ll win you back. I love you.”

Clarke’s eyebrows rose. This was news. His first declaration of love. She almost laughed at the absurdity of it, the timing of it. After all, his actions almost got her killed. Okay, maimed. “Finn. I don’t love you.”

His face drooped with disappointment. 

“And we’re not getting back together. Ever.” She gulped down the last of her coffee. “I have to go. However, you can begin paying me back this week. I’ll expect a check in the mail. Send it here.” Grabbing a pen from her purse, she scratched out an address on a napkin. She made a mental note to tell Raven and O to be on the lookout. Of course, she wouldn’t hold her breath. She doubted she’d ever see a dime.

* * *

Clarke had her hands full as she hustled down the corridor. She figured Lexa’s flowers may be getting dull and lifeless, so new ones were in order. Plus, she carried two lunch orders. And the aroma wafting from the bags was making her stomach moan with pleasure. Now that peculiar anticipation in her chest? That was harder to explain. It felt like she’d been waiting for Christmas morning and it had finally arrived. Could a certain brunette be the cause? Clarke had to admit, she missed interacting with her these last two days. Friday night was fun. And the way Lexa had gushed over her paintings let loose all sorts of good feels.

When she arrived at her destination, Gus glanced up from his computer and pushed the intercom. “Lunch.” 

“Hi Gus.”

He continued to type on his laptop with an amused smile on his face. “Hello, Clarke.”

Lexa soon appeared. “Clarke.”

Clarke received another wink as she passed Gus. He was winker for sure. She winked back, and he giggled.

Lexa’s desk was already set with plates, napkins, silverware, and glasses of water. 

Before Lexa sat down, she saw the scrapes on Clarke’s chin. “Oh God. What happened?” She reached out a hand and gently turned Clarke’s cheek to get a better look. “Let me guess, another cat mishap? It wasn’t that black cat, was it?” Her thumb gently caressed Clarke’s chin.

“No. Thank God. It was a raccoon.” A small tic of pleasure pulsed in her lower belly. Lexa’s fingers were warm and soft, and her perfume was so damn lovely. 

“A raccoon? Who has a pet raccoon?”

Clarke quickly relayed the story. 

Lexa was rolling and shaking her head by the end of it. “It’s like a movie with you two. _The Incredible Adventures of Raven and Clarke_.”

“I know, right? The moral of the story is, don’t use grape jelly to trap a cat.”

“And he was in the house the whole time.”

Clarke gave a single nod. “Yes.”

“Did you still get paid?”

“Yes. I’m now saving up for an eventual hospital visit that I fear is in my future.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll visit and bring lunch.”

“You are too kind.”

“Ssh. Don’t tell anybody. I need to keep my hard-ass image intact.”

“I’ll never tell.” 

Lexa pointed to the array of flowers lying next to Clarke. “Are those for me?”

“Yep. I stalked the dumpster for you.”

Lexa laid a hand on her heart. “I’m flattered. I don’t think anyone has ever dumpster dived for me before.”

Clarke chuckled. “See how special you are? Let’s eat before it gets cold, then we’ll put them in the vases.” Clarke opened the bags. “I see we ordered two burgers today, Miss Woods.”

“Yes, we did. Which would you like? The Philly cheesesteak burger, or the Wild Bill Mushroom burger.”

“I’m gonna choose the mushroom if that’s okay.”

“It’s perfect. I was dying to try the cheesesteak burger.”

They dove in. Clarke’s humming was contagious, and they were soon humming in harmony.

“How’s the mushroom?” Lexa asked.

“Good. Try a bite.” Clarke stood and offered her burger. “The gruyere is exquisite, and the caramelized onions are, well, caramelized onions.”

Lexa grinned. “I love caramelized onions. Here, you try mine.”

They exchanged burgers and each took a bite of the others, then swapped them back.

“That’s good,” Clarke gushed. “Oh, I almost forgot.” She dug back into one of the bags and pulled out a container of crispy, curly fries. “These are courtesy of my friend Lincoln who works at the restaurant.”

“I guess I’m skipping dinner tonight.” Lexa grabbed a handful.

“So. I’ve been thinking,” Clarke said between bites.

Lexa wiped her mouth with a napkin. “Yeah?”

“It’s my turn to buy lunch.”

Lexa raised a hand. “No, no. Absolutely not.”

“Lexa, you just can’t keep buying me lunch.”

“Why not?”

“It doesn’t seem fair.”

“Just consider it payment. For you helping me keep my sanity. I never usually take breaks during the day. I just work, work, work and never take a breath. When you’re here, I breathe. I relax. And I can’t put a price on that. So let me do this.” 

Her eyes silently pleaded, and Clarke found it hard to argue. “There’s such a thing as work-life balance, you know. And it sounds like you work too much. What do you do for fun?”

Lexa became thoughtful. “I, ah...hm. I travel for work sometimes.”

Clarke popped a French fry into her mouth. “That’s work. Not fun.”

Lexa pursed her lips. “Okay. Let’s see. I go to benefits...for work.” Her shoulders slumped. “You’re right. I don’t really have any hobbies to speak of.”

“You need to get out more and have fun.”

“You sound like my Gram. And Lila. And Margaret. They all like to gang up on me on Saturday mornings and tell me how boring my life is.”

Clarke chuckled at the thought of three older women giving Lexa the business about being all business. “I bet you’re one of those overachievers who gets up at the crack of dawn.”

“Actually, I do. Every morning, without fail, I get up at five a.m.”

Clarke made a play of choking on her food. “Five? Even on weekends?”

“Yes.”

“Even if you’ve been out all night partying?”

“Well, that hasn’t happened in a long time, but yes, I would still get up at five. It’s my personal alarm clock that never turns off.”

“Jesus. I never met a weekend where I didn’t sleep in.” Clarke salted her fries. “What are you doing this Saturday?”

“This Saturday?”

“Yep. Don’t think, just say ‘nothing.’”

“Okay, after my breakfast with Gram, nothing. Why?”

“Let’s go to the zoo. I’ve been dying to go to the zoo. It’ll be like homework for you. A lesson in having fun.”

“I don’t know…”

“Lexa. C’mon. It’s supposed to be warm this weekend. I wanna take my camera and get some animal shots. Then I’m gonna paint them.”

After hesitating for a moment, Lexa’s eyes sparkled. “Yes. The zoo it is. It’s a date!”

Clarke almost choked on a French fry upon hearing the word ‘date.’ Didn’t she just have this discussion with Raven? And did she just ask this woman out on a date? And if she did, was it a big deal? “Excellent. Just an FYI, the zoo does not open at five a.m. We’ll shoot for the afternoon.”

Lexa smiled. “Got it. Now let’s get serious for a moment.”

“Oh.” Clarke straightened. 

Lexa nodded toward the last French fry sitting in the container. “Who gets the last fry?”

Clarke narrowed her eyes. “Well, I think I should. As extra payment for introducing you to fun.”

“Oh. Is that what you think?” She pointed behind Clarke. “Oh my God, is that a black cat?”

“Jesus Christ, where?” Clarke jerked around in fear. When she turned back, Lexa was enjoying the last French fry.

“Smooth Woods. _Real_ smooth.”

*** * ***

Later that night, Clarke finished up the cottage scene. It turned out wonderful, better than the original. Was it because she felt so inspired these last few days? Was that what selling a couple of paintings could do? Fill you with confidence to try different things? She’d have to make sure to thank Lexa again. After lunch, they’d hung the paintings around the office, and those, coupled with the fresh flowers, changed the decor dramatically. What was once an austere, uptight space was suddenly warm and welcoming. Even Lexa, a self-described art neophyte and always innocent bystander to decorating, admitted that the office had a different vibe. Her excitement was written all over her face. At one point, Clarke thought she was going to hug her. But the moment passed quickly, and Clarke felt...disappointment. Probably because she was an affection whore, and since leaving Finn, affection was in limited supply.

Suddenly, she was filled with an urge. Grabbing her sketch pad, she closed her eyes for a moment. After fixing an image in her mind, she opened them and began to draw. Over the next twenty minutes, a portrait took shape. Long dark hair with subtle auburn highlights, green eyes with heavy lashes and brows, lush, full lips turned up in a soft smile. When she was finished, she sat back and critiqued. Not bad. She wondered if Lexa would ever sit for a real portrait, because Clarke would love to paint her.

A tiny rattle at the back door pulled her attention away from the drawing. She swallowed thickly when the doorknob slowly moved back and forth. Putting the sketch pad down, she grabbed the baseball bat and crept over to the door. While her heart pounded inside her chest, she contemplated the next move. Was this the boy from last week? Should she confront him again? 

Filled with false bravado, she quietly slid the latches open. She would not be held hostage by fear. This was her home, and she was gonna protect it! 

With a quick tug, she threw open the door and in tumbled a waifish, filthy mess. The baseball bat was poised and ready to do damage, but something held her back. 

The boy cried out and raised a hand to shield his tear-stained face. “Don’t! Please don’t hurt me! I’m sorry. I’m so sorry!” He shot from the room and high-tailed it down the alley.

Clarke stared after him, feeling bad that she almost clocked him in the head. He couldn’t have been more than fourteen years old. And he had a black eye and a cut on his cheek. Without thinking, she closed the door and took off after him. He turned left on Chestnut Street and Clarke huffed and puffed to keep up. When she swung around the corner, she saw him duck into another alley a block away. When she made it to the mouth of the alley, she gulped large amounts of air into her lungs. It came to a dead end about twenty-five yards ahead.

She slowly walked forward, stepping over empty beer cans and fast food wrappers. When she heard a whimper, she stopped. Just ahead, a large green dumpster was off to her right. She crept forward and peeked around the edge of the dumpster. There was the boy, in a huddled lump. His knees were pulled to his chest, and his head buried into his crossed arms.

“Hey,” Clarke said softly.

His body twitched in fear, and his wild eyes searched for an escape. Realizing he was cornered, he pleaded, “Please don’t hurt me.”

Clarke raised a hand. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

His shoulders sagged with relief, and he rested his head back against the stone wall of the building.

“What are you doing out here? Don’t you have a place to stay?”

He shook his head.

“Where’s your family?”

“I don’t have any.”

Clarke didn’t want to appear thuggish, what with brandishing a bat and all, so she took a seat next to him. She bet he was a runaway. 

“How long have you been on the streets?”

He stared straight ahead. “Two months.”

“Where were you before that?”

His lips pressed together, and no answer was forthcoming, so Clarke didn’t push it. He had his secrets and until he was willing to share, they would remain his to keep. She had a hunch though, so she asked, “Were you staying at my place a couple of weeks ago?”

He nodded. “I was walking down the alley one night, trying all the doors. It was cold and I didn’t have a warm coat. The door wasn’t locked, so I went in. I stayed there for a few weeks. But then last week it was locked. I guess you’d just moved in or something.”

“How did you get a black eye?”

“I was jumped by a couple of kids.”

She stood. “C’mon. We need to put something on that cut.”

The look he gave her almost made her laugh. It screamed, _are you fucking kidding me?_

“I’m serious. C’mon.” She extended a hand and pulled him to his feet.

They walked in silence back to the store. Clarke hoped this wasn’t another one of her incredibly stupid impetuous decisions. Like giving some woman she didn’t know flowers. Although that worked out surprisingly well. This, however, could end badly. Well, if she died doing a good deed, she could live with that. She chuckled at her choice of words.

When they were back inside, Clarke made him sit while she found a clean washcloth. “I’m Clarke, by the way.”

“Aden.”

“Aden? Cool name.” She gently rubbed at the grit on his face. When the blood was washed away, it revealed a manageable cut. No stitches should be needed. “You can thank Jonesy for this first aid kit,” she said as she applied some ointment to his wound.

“Who’s Jonesy?”

“Ah. The infamous Jonesy. He was our first client.”

He looked puzzled so she explained. “My bestie found me this place, and from the looks of the sign, it was a pet finder business. That we conveniently took over.”

“You find lost pets? That’s cool.”

“It is. We’re gonna try and set up some dog walking too. I’m kinda broke right now, so, anything will help.”

“I’m sorry you’re broke.”

She smiled. “Thanks. But I’ll be okay. So Aden. Why don’t we pile up some blankets in the office, and you can sleep there tonight? I’ll find a cot or something for you tomorrow. How old are you?”

Apparently, this was another secret he wanted to keep. 

“Okay. I get it. When you wanna talk, I’ll listen. Right now, I’m gonna go next door and get you something to eat. Are you a turkey kinda guy? Or ham? Or—”

“I love turkey and cheese!”

Clarke smiled at the way his face lit up. “Turkey and cheese sandwich coming right up. While I’m doing that, here’s a towel. I suggest you take a shower. And there’s a spare toothbrush under the sink.” She pulled out a pair of sweatpants and a long-sleeved T-shirt. “Put these on for now.”

He nodded as she walked out the door.

Aden tore into the sandwich when she brought it back. She could definitely appreciate the enthusiasm he displayed in finishing off the Sun Chips and chocolate chip cookie. When he was satisfied, he sat back with a hand on his belly. “Thank you.” 

The way he said it, so soft and so truly thankful, made Clarke’s eyes fill up. This kid needed help. He needed someone to care. She hoped at some point he would trust her with his story. “I think it’s time for bed. For me anyway. If you’re not tired, you can read a book. I have a few of them in the desk drawer out there.”

She could tell he wanted to say something, so she prodded him. “What’s the matter?”

“It’s just...uh…” He hugged his arms to his body. “You’re trusting me to sleep in here?”

Clarke chuckled. “First off, I don’t have much here if you wanted to rob me blind. And second, I do swing a mean baseball bat, if you get any other ideas.”

He went wide-eyed. “I would never, ever do anything like that. Please believe me.”

Clarke pursed her lips and nodded. She trusted her gut. And her gut said it was okay. “I know that. Now get to bed.”

The next morning, Clarke opened her eyes. She wiggled her fingers and toes. So far so good. She was not murdered in her sleep. After stretching her arms above her head, she sat up. Her satchel was still hanging on the chair across the room. Not robbed either. The day was looking up. 

She padded over to the door leading to the store and quietly opened it. Aden was sound asleep, huddled in blankets under one of the desks. Good. Probably the first good night’s sleep he’s had in a while. Well, since he last slept here. Poor kid. 

Clarke hopped in the shower and quickly dressed. When she poked her head through the door again, a sleepy Aden was sitting against the wall. 

“Good morning,” he said.

“Morning. Bathroom’s free.”

He grinned sheepishly. “Thanks.”

While he was in the bathroom, Clarke shot off a text to Lincoln to see if he was at work yet. The restaurant opened at eleven a.m., so she knew he would arrive early. He sent an answering text confirming just that. 

When Aden came out of the bathroom, he joined Clarke at one of the desks. She had a couple of hot beverages in front of her.

“How’d you sleep?” she asked.

“Great. Best sleep I’ve had in a while. Thank you again. For everything.” His fingers drummed along the top of the desk. 

There was a nervous energy surrounding him this morning. Clarke figured he had something on his mind, and she prayed he would share, just to unburden himself. Sometimes talking about the situation made it more bearable. “Do you drink coffee? Or tea? I got both cause I wasn’t sure.”

“Tea is great.” 

Clarke pushed a cup toward him, along with a bag of sugars and creamers. 

He stirred sugar into his cup and took a sip. “You’ve been so nice. I...I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything. How about this? Someday, you pay it forward.”

He smiled. “I will. I promise.”

They both sipped from their cups as another beat of silence ensued.

“My family threw me out,” he whispered. 

Clarke had suspected as much. She remained silent in the hope that he would continue. And he did.

He chewed on his bottom lip before stating, “I’m gay.”

She grabbed his hand and squeezed. His eyes told how grateful he was. “What happened?” she asked.

“I was seeing this kid at school.” He took another sip before continuing. “We’d been hanging, and one thing led to another, and we hooked up. After that, we were inseparable. Then one day his dad found us in his room. We thought nobody was home.” His eyes filled with tears, and he covered his face with his hands. “It was ugly. He hit Paul. He hit him so hard.” His voice broke and he waited to compose himself. “He screamed at me to leave. So I did. Then he called my parents.”

It took a few moments for him to gather himself. “They threw me out. Said I was an abomination. Said I would rot in hell.”

“What happened to Paul?”

He slowly shook his head. “My folks took my phone, so I couldn’t call him. I walked by his house, and nobody was home. A few days later, I saw him at school, and he was hanging with the football guys. I tried to talk to him.” He wiped at the tears that continued to trickle down his cheeks. “He told me to leave him alone. That he wasn’t a fag like me.” He stopped and stared into the distance.

Clarke’s heart broke for him. “Where did you go?”

His shoulders rose and fell in defeat. “I came here. I hitched rides.” His sigh was heavy. “I couldn’t stay there. Everybody knows everybody. Philly is big, I thought I could lose myself in a big city. But I got here, and I realized how stupid I was.”

“Where did you live?”

“I’m from York.”

Clarke knew of York. It was one of the many pockets of ultra-conservatism scattered across central Pennsylvania. “How old are you?”

“Fifteen.”

Jesus, _so young_ , Clarke thought. She squeezed his hand again. “You’re safe now. We’ll figure something out.”

His tears flowed once more, and Clarke knew he needed a hug. So she wrapped him up and let him cry.

Half an hour later, Clarke sat with Aden and Lincoln in one of the booths at Rouge. Lincoln had whipped them up a couple of omelets that Aden was in the process of wolfing down.

“Why don’t you stay with me today, Aden. I can put you to work and pay you under the table,” Linc said.

Clarke was relieved to have some help. “That’s a great idea.”

Aden’s face beamed with excitement. “Okay.”

“And then after I get off, we’ll pick up my girlfriend and go to Walmart to buy you some clothes and an air mattress.” 

Aden looked to Clarke, who smiled her approval. “That’ll be better than sleeping on the floor.”

“I can stay with you then?” he asked with hopeful eyes.

Clarke nodded. “For however long you need.” She gently squeezed his forearm before standing. “You’re not alone anymore. We’ll figure it out, together. Now, I have to go. I’ll see you back at the store later.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another Cat Tale: As I have documented in the past, or maybe I haven't, I can't fucking remember anything anymore, I have a male cat (aka piss boy, aka-a Andre) that "marks" in the house. Not all the time, maybe every few weeks. He doesn't get along so well with one of our other male cats (Alfie, our elder statesman), so I think it's an anxiety issue. Anyway, we tried to turn Andre into a partial outside cat (just during the day), but I worried too much, and he just kept marking anyway, so we brought him back inside. Been almost a year, and he hasn't been out. Stop me if I've told you all this before. No? Okay. Yes? Too bad, I can't think of anything else for the note.  
> Andre has been really bad the last few weeks, like marking a couple times a day. Which means there's a lovely smell of cat piss hanging in the air when I get home from work. So I get the brilliant idea of getting him a harness and leash and walking him outside, to let him get a taste of the outdoors, but also keeping him and my wild birds safe. The whole "getting your cat used to a harness" thing is supposed to take weeks. Well, we accelerated his training. In ten minutes I had the harness on him and he was out the door. This was last Saturday. After about twenty minutes, he was doing really well. Walking around, eating grass, puking it up, just having a nice time. Sunday, same. He even started crying by the back door like he used to do, asking to go out. So out we went for our little jaunt around the yard. When he would have enough, he would sorta bolt for the back door, with us jogging behind him holding the leash.  
> Monday, after dinner, I take him out. He did even better. Less grass eating, more meandering around, getting further into the back yard. And then it happened. Some asshole nearby neighbor shot off a series of fireworks. They sounded like they exploded right on top of us. Well, I can't even begin to describe Andre's reaction. Whirling dervish? Tasmanian devil-like? He jumped, he bucked, he twisted, he hissed. He almost twisted out of the harness. I tried to pick him up but he hissed at me. He scratched the shit out of my legs. Finally, I got him untangled and he took off for the door. When we got there, his pupils were wild and huge, his tail poofed, and he was still hissing at me every time I tried to disconnect the leash. I just threw open the door and he was gone in a flash, up to the third floor. I peeked under the bed in our spare room, and both he and Alfie were cowering in fear. I waited an hour and went back up and managed to disconnect all his hardware. It took all night for him to appear downstairs.  
> It's now Friday, and he doesn't even go near the back door, and barely comes downstairs. Which means he isn't marking. And he seems to be getting along with Alfie. They must have bonded over their shared sheer terror. For now anyway. Wondering if he'll never wanna go out again? Or maybe he'll forget in a week or so. Can't say I mind his ass on the third floor for most of the day, considering we were thinking of locking him up there to try and discourage the marking anyway.  
> So, that's my cat tale. I'm gonna have lovely scars on my leg.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I totally forgot to post this. Forgive me and my old addled brain.  
> A bit of book news. I finally heard from my editor for Clexa Goes to Hollywood, aka #CassiNova! The final process has begun. Still on target for a November release date.  
> Find my Facebook page [here](https://www.facebook.com/lorig.matthews.71).  
> tumblr [here](https://lorig11.tumblr.com/).

Here is Dufus playing frisbee golf. She does love her stumps.

Chapter Eight

Today’s menu consisted of two flatbread veggie pizzas, and Clarke was starving. She quickly delivered the other lunch orders and headed up to the fifteenth floor.

Gus was typing away on this laptop when she approached his desk.

“Hi, Gus.”

He looked up and gave a boo-boo kitty face. “Clarke. Lexa sends her apologies. She was called to an emergency meeting in Chicago about an hour ago, and she didn’t have your number to let you know. And now it looks like she’ll be gone for a few days.”

“Well that stinks.” To say Clarke was disappointed would have been putting it mildly. Slightly devastated was more like it. Their lunches had become the best part of her day. “She’s gonna miss a good pizza.”

“Sit.” With his head, he gestured to the chair next to his desk. “How about this? You and I will have lunch instead.”

Before she could stop herself, Clarke blew out a disappointed breath. “Okay.”

“Don’t sound so happy about it.”

She immediately felt bad. “I’m sorry. Guess I was looking forward to eating with my lunch buddy.”

“Well, I know for a fact she was disappointed also. She practically said as much.”

“She did?”

He nodded and looked around. In a hushed tone, he said, “I heard her on the phone. She tried like hell to move the meeting to this evening. Said she had lunch plans she hated to break.”

Clarke narrowed her eyes. “She didn’t say that.”

He crossed his finger over his heart and sat back in his chair.

“I can’t imagine our lunches are that important to her.”

“You’d be surprised.”

Clarke looked skeptical.

“These past couple of weeks, I’ve never seen her smile so much. Not since…” His face went blank and he broke off the sentence. In an effort to distract, he grabbed two plates from his desk and made a show of arranging place settings.

But Clarke’s interest was piqued. “Since what? What were you gonna say?” She opened the pizza boxes.

“Nothing. Forget I said anything.”

“C’mon. I can keep a secret. I promise.”

Gus’s eyes once again traveled around the hallway, making sure no one was within earshot. “Since Costia,” he whispered.

Clarke leaned closer, and whispered back, “Who’s Costia?”

A couple of other employees walked by, nodding hello. Gus waited until they were gone. “Her ex. They were supposed to get married. Lex caught her in bed with another woman right before the wedding. Turns out Costia was only after her money.” He sighed. “Lex was destroyed.”

“That’s awful.” Clarke grabbed a slice and took a bite and chewed, mulling over this new intel. Why would anybody cheat on Lexa? She was beautiful and kind and generous. “How long ago did they break up?”

“Four years.”

“Four years!” Clarke said, louder than she wanted. A stern look from Gus served as admonishment and she shrunk in her chair. “Sorry.”

Gus produced two sparkling waters. He then took a healthy bite of his veggie flatbread.

They ate in silence for a few moments.

When Clarke came up for air, she asked, “So she hasn’t been with anyone in four years?”

Gus shrugged. “She dallies, if you know what I mean.”

It took Clarke a moment to catch on to dallying. “Oh. Gotcha. But she hasn’t been serious with anyone since Costia.”

“Nope.”

“Huh. That’s a shame.” Clarke took another bite. “She’s so good looking. She must have to beat them off with a stick.”

“She doesn’t hurt for suitors. She’s just not interested.”

“Funny, ever since I met her, I sensed she’s lonely. Maybe she needs to get back in the game.”

“I think so too. Which is why it’s so nice that you guys are hanging out. It’s good for her to get to know someone new.” He was quick to add, “As a friend, of course.”

The look that followed that statement could only be construed as _suggestive_. And Clarke felt the heat rise in her cheeks. Did he know about the eye fucking? “This pizza’s good,” she mumbled.

“She really enjoys your company. And I personally love to see your smiling face every day also.”

Clarke beamed. “Thanks.”

When Gus was finished, he sat back, satisfied. “So, anything exciting in your life? All I do is work, maybe I can live vicariously through you.”

“Well, funny you should ask.”

Clarke relayed the whole Aden adventure from the night before. When she was finished, she shook her head. “And now I don’t know what to do.”

“Have you ever heard of the Wood’s House?”

“What’s that?”

“Lexa’s on the board. It’s something she started. It’s a home for at risk LGBTQ youth. They live there, go to school, take part in group therapy, etc. etc. It’s a great organization.”

“That’s exactly what he needs!”

“Talk to her when she gets back.”

“I will, thanks.”

* * *

Later that afternoon, Linc dropped off Aden at the store, whose arms were filled with Walmart shopping bags.

“Oh, my goodness. It looks like somebody had fun today,” Clarke said.

“Clark! Linc and Octavia bought me some clothes.”

She smiled. “That’s great. I think we can throw out what you had on last night.”

He made a face. “Ew, yeah.”

“I gotta go. Octavia is cooking dinner tonight,” Linc said.

“Thanks for all your help,” Clarke said.

“No problem.” Linc hugged Clarke and Aden. “Same time tomorrow?” he asked.

“Sounds good,” both Clarke and Aden said.

“He’s cool,” Aden said after Lincoln left.

“He’s a sweetheart.”

“They’re gonna pay me under the table to help around the restaurant. He showed me how to chop peppers today!”

Clarke’s brows shot up. “Jesus Christ, don’t cut off a finger.”

Aden giggled. “I won’t.”

“I wanna talk to you about something.” Clarke explained the Wood’s House to Aden. “I have to talk to my friend about it first. I don’t know how it all works.”

His chin trembled. “You mean I wouldn’t live here?”

She rested a hand on his shoulder. “I don’t know how long I can live here. One of these days the people who own this place are gonna find out I’m a squatter.”

He still looked forlorn, so Clarke backpedaled. “Well, look, as long as I’m here, and you wanna be here, you be here. How’s that?”

He brightened. “Okay.”

“But I still think we need to check it out. Maybe you could meet some of the other kids there, since they’re in similar situations. And who knows, you may like it.”

“I guess.”

“At the very least, we need to get you back into school in the fall. That’s the most important thing. I’m hoping they can help with that.”

* * *

On Friday, Clarke was whistling a happy tune. Was it because a certain someone was back today? Now that she’d exchanged phone numbers with Gus, he was quick to update her on Lexa’s schedule. If she didn’t know better, she’d swear he was trying to set them up. But that would be ridiculous. Lexa would never be interested in someone like Clarke. Someone who was living in the back room of an abandoned store on Chestnut Street. And according to Gus, Lexa had sworn off women a while ago. And why the hell were these thoughts even going through her head in the first place? Although she must admit. Lexa had been on her mind quite a bit this week. Just missing her new friend, that’s all. She adjusted her backpack, which was filled with flowers from the restaurant.

The elevator doors opened, and Clarke waved to the receptionist who was always on duty. “Hi, Tracy.”

“Hi, Clarke.”

She nodded to a few others in the hallway and they smiled back.

Gus was on the phone when she stopped at his desk and he held a finger up. After finishing the conversation, he smiled. “Clarke. It must be lunchtime.”

Clarke winked. She’d figure she’d beat him to the punch. “I love that I am synonymous with food.”

Gus chuckled and hit the page button on his phone. “Lunchtime.” He sat back in his chair. “She’s in a really good mood today.”

“Oh yeah? Why?”

With his signature wink, he said, “Who knows?”

Soon the door was opening, and Lexa was smiling, and Clarke’s heart did a little somersault. Should she analyze that? Nope. Just missing her friend!

“Clarke. Come in.” She waved Clarke in and shut the door behind her. “How was your week?”

“It was okay.” She shrugged off the backpack and looked around. “Well, I can see you’ve missed my dumpster diving. All your flowers are wilted.”

“Your dumpster diving wasn’t the only thing missed.”

Clarke almost dropped the lunches. Did Lexa really miss her? Clarke Griffin? Practically homeless Clarke Griffin? She played it cool. “Oh yeah? What else did you miss?”

“Your smiling face of course. Chicago was boring. I missed my fun guru.”

“Well your fun guru is here. We’re still on for tomorrow, right?”

“I’ve been looking forward to it all week. So yes, we’re still on.”

“Good.” Clarke pulled the flowers out of the vases and replaced them with fresh ones while Lexa separated their lunches.

Lexa admired the array of color. “Thank you. They’re beautiful.”

“You’re very welcome.”

Both attacked their lunches. Between bites, Clarke said, “Did Gus tell you I had a roommate now?”

Lexa’s eyebrows rose. “He did mention that you’d probably be talking to me about something. But he was very vague. When did you get a roommate?”

Clarke once again relayed the story of Aden and how he came to be shacking up at her place. “Gus said you were on the board at the Wood’s House. I was hoping maybe you had some thoughts on the whole situation. He’s a great kid.”

“I’ll see if they have any beds available,” Lexa said. “Last I had heard, they were full. We’re going to be opening another house next door soon, so if he wants to live there, I’ll make sure to save him a space.”

“I guess there’s no rush. He’s a good roomie.”

“He needs to get back into school in the fall. We can certainly help with that, even if he chooses not to live there. And if he needs some tutoring this summer to catch up, I can arrange it.”

“That would be wonderful. Somehow I knew you would be a great help.”

“Why don’t we take him to the home and introduce him to our lead counselor, Wells? I would think at the very least, he could join some of the group sessions.”

Warmth bloomed in Clarke’s chest at the ‘we.’ Once again, the sincerity of this woman surprised her. Maybe it was time to not be surprised. Maybe Lexa Woods was one of the nicest people she’d ever met. “You are awesome. Thanks.” She privately basked in the occasional eye fucks coming from the other side of the desk. The tingling in her stomach she just chalked up to a hungry belly.

“I heard I missed a good pizza the other day.”

“You heard right. Maybe you should order it on Monday.”

“I shall. I hope you don’t mind, but Gus shared your phone number with me, in case I need to get in touch. I felt so bad the other day when I couldn’t let you know I wouldn’t be here. And if you’d rather I didn’t have it I promise I will delete it immediately.”

“Oh my, God. Don’t be silly. Of course, you can have my number.”

“Good. Here, I’ll text you, so you have mine.” She sent off a quick text.

Clarke checked her phone. “Got it. And saved. Thank you, Miss Woods. So. Chicago was dullsville.”

Lexa rolled her eyes. “I think you’ve ruined me. No one laughs. No one kids around. I was basically hanging out with a bunch of sticks in the mud for three days.”

“Damn.” Clarke lifted her chin. “I’m kinda proud I’m ruining you.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. You need a little ruin.”

“I do, do I?”

“Yeah. And I’m good at ruining.”

Lexa chuckled while saying, “Oh, are you now?”

Clarke sat back and folded her arms, fully enjoying their playful banter. “I’m a master ruiner.”

Lexa nodded her head a few times.” Okay then.” Her eyes darkened. “I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather be ruined by.”

A flutter went through Clarke’s chest. Lexa’s tone was laced with inuendo. Were they still talking about having fun? Or something else. Something a whole lot different than your average fun. “Just wait ‘til tomorrow, we’re taking the ruining to a whole new level.”

“Are you sure you’re ready for a ruined me? I can be a handful.”

“Oh, I can handle you.” This was said with more bravado then she felt. Because Lexa Woods was probably more than Clarke Griffin could handle. While they continued to gaze at each other, Clarke’s confidence waivered. She tried to get back on solid ground. “Not to change the subject or anything, because I live to ruin, but, I’m taking my paintings to the art gallery in the morning, so wish me luck.”

Excitement brightened Lexa’s face. “Good! Are you sure you don’t want me to go with you and put in a good word?”

“I’m positive.”

“Okay. Well, good luck.”

“Thanks. Oh, I almost forgot, I had a call from the shelter on Lombard Street this morning, saying they had a dog who might be Caesar.”

Lexa straightened in her chair. “Really?”

Clarke frowned. “Don’t get too excited. I checked it out and it wasn’t him.”

“Damn. Gram is depressed. She tries to hide it, but I know she is.”

“I just don’t get where he could’ve gotten to. Unless your suspicions were correct, and someone took him. But if they did and they live around here, someone will spot him. We just have to keep canvassing neighborhoods and make sure people know to be on the lookout for him.”

“I really appreciate the hard work you and Raven are doing.”

“Hey, it’s our job, right? And I swear to God, I will not rest until we find him.”

“A friend of mine had originally suggested posting an award.”

“That might be a good idea.”

“She said I should make it substantial.”

“I guess it has to be big enough to get people’s attention.”

Lexa nodded absently, lost in thought.

“Who’s your friend?”

Her eyes refocused. “Ah, Luna Rivers. Actually, Lieutenant Luna Rivers. She’s a cop.”

“Lieutenant Rivers? I met her. She came into the store when I first moved in.”

“Yes. She was the one who recommended you guys to me in the first place.”

“How do you know her?”

“We went to high school together and remained friends through the years. She’s done great work for the Woods House.”

When they were done eating, a reluctant Clarke stood to leave. Today’s lunch had been fun, and oddly exciting.

Lexa walked her to the door, and then down the corridor to the elevator. If Clarke didn’t know better, she would think Lexa hated to say goodbye too. But that would be silly. And sort of romantic. And they were just friends.

Who eye fucked.

* * *

Later that evening, Clarke, Raven, and Octavia sat in the store eating dinner.

O drew the short straw and was swaddled in the pea-green bean bag. “Linc says Aden is doing really well at the restaurant.”

“He loves it,” Clarke said. “He’s talking about becoming a chef.”

“I still can’t believe you’re letting him live here with you,” Raven said. “It’s pretty damn wonderful. Or it’s pretty damn stupid.”

“He needed help. And he’s a sweet kid.”

“You’re a good person, Clarke,” O said. “And he is a great kid. Linc loves him.”

“Speaking of good ‘persons,’” Clarke said. “Lexa is on the board of the Wood’s House. It’s a home for LGBTQ youth. She’s gonna help. They’re opening a new house soon, and if Aden wants, she said he can live there. And she’s offered to set up tutors, to help him catch up on what he’s missed in school the last few months.”

O’s face registered surprise. “Wow.” She raised her beer. “To Lexa Woods. A damn fine person.”

Clarke and Raven joined in the toast. “Here, here!”

“Speaking of good persons, again,” Raven said. “I’ve been lining up some dog walking opportunities for us.”

“What’s that got to do with good persons?” Clarke asked.

“Nothing. So I found seven dogs in the same neighborhood that need to be walked. I’m charging twenty bucks a pop. I’m thinking we strap those seven pooches to your harness and boom! That’s one hundred and forty bucks a day. For an hour’s work. Times five. For five days.”

“Holy shit, that’s great,” Clarke said.

Raven held up a hand. “There’s one little glitch.”

“What?”

“The walks would be around lunchtime. You’d have to give up the delivery gig.”

“Crap. I love my lunch dates with Lexa.”

Raven cocked a brow. “Dates?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Sure.”

“Not literal dates.” Right? Were they dates? No...maybe?

Raven nodded. “Uh-huh.”

“They’re not.”

“I’m agreeing with you.”

Clarke knew her bestie was being coy. “Feels like you’re not.”

“If you say they’re not dates. Who am I to say they are? Right?”

“Right.”

“Besides, dog walking will be a lot more lucrative than delivering lunches.”

Clarke’s mouth drooped in disappointment. “I know. It’s just. I don’t know. The lunches are fun.”

“So hang out with her another time,” O said.

“I doubt she’ll do that. She’s always busy working. It’s like I had a captive audience in a weird way, showing up at her office.”

“What are you talking about? You’re going to the zoo with her tomorrow,” O said.

“True.”

“Yeah. Just keep asking her out on the weekends,” Raven said. “And when I say asking her out, I don’t mean asking her out on a date. Because we’ve established, you’re not actually dating. I mean, you’ve been quite clear you’re not dating.”

“We’re not dating.” Dating would involve furtive touches, stolen kisses. Eye fucking. _Oh shit._

Well, maybe there was a spectrum for relationships. On one end was solid friendship, no physical attraction. And on the other end was solid dating, attraction, kissing, sex. And in between was...what Clarke and Lexa were doing right now. Yes. They were in the middle of the spectrum. She glanced at the front window and almost choked on her pork chop. “Oh shit!”

“What?”

Raven and O spun around to see what had spooked Clarke, who was as pale as a ghost.

Clarke blindly reached for her beer to wash the other white meat down.

There he was. In all his feline glory. Peering in and plotting her demise.

“Oh. It’s your friend, Clarke,” Raven said. “He looks hungry.” She rose and walked to the door.

“What are you doing!” Clarke watched in abject horror as Raven opened the door.

“Here kitty, kitty.”

And just like that, the devil was welcomed in. Wasn’t there some sort of rule about inviting demons into your home?

He trotted in, his rotund belly swaying with every step, and Raven shut the door behind him. “Clarke, give him some food.”

Clarke was frozen in place. Surely bad luck was right around the corner. She looked up and checked the light fixture above her head. So far it seemed secure.

The cat made his way over to the desk, with his twitchy tail and eerie green eyes. A soft mewl fell from his wicked lips.

“Hey buddy, you got a chubby belly. Have you been getting handouts from everyone?” O bent down to pet him and recoiled in disgust. “Holy shit. He smells!”

Raven caught a whiff when she sat back down. “Holy shit is right. What have you been feeding him, Clarke?”

“I don’t feed him!”

Raven and O exchanged a look and started cackling.

Clarke knew exactly where they were going. “Don’t.”

But the gals had already broken into a rendition of “Smelly Cat.”

“Smelly cat, smelly cat, what are they feeding you…” they sang.

Clarke flinched at the off-key rendition of the snappy little ditty made famous by the TV show _Friends_. “Oh God.”

After having sufficiently butchered the song, Raven suggested giving the cat a bath.

Clarke gave an emphatic, “No. I’m not giving him a bath.”

Raven lowered her brows. “Clarke, you have to take better care of your pets.”

“He’s not my pet!”

“You sure about that? Isn’t possession nine tenths of the law?”

“What’s the other tenth?” O asked.

“Fuck if I know,” Raven answered.

Clarke pointed at both of them. “I am not bathing that cat.”

“C’mon, we’ll throw him in the shower.”

O was skeptical. “I didn’t think cats liked water.”

“Pfft. Minor detail. Clarke can handle it. She works out. Clarke put some shorts on. Let’s go, this should be easy.”

“I don’t work out!”

“She doesn’t work out. Look at her arms,” O said. “They’re noodles.”

While the girls were discussing pet hygiene and Clarke’s lack of muscle tone, the cat disappeared.

Clarke was the first to realize he was gone. “God damn it. Where is he?”

Raven was nonplussed. “This place is only so big. If he’s not in this room, he must be in your bedroom.”

“Aw, gross!” She shot from her seat.

And there was Beelzebub, the Prince of Darkness, kneading away with his needle-sharp claws.

“Oh no! Get off my pillow!” she shrieked.

From the other room, O said, “Ew. Bet that smells now.”

Never one to pass up an opportunity to stretch her vocal cords, Raven started the song again and O joined in.

“You guys are not funny!” came Clarke’s retort.

Raven stood and threw away her trash. “Into the shower. Both of you.”

* * *

“I was right,” O said.

“You were right,” Raven agreed. “Cats do not like water.”

O nodded. “Like, they really hate it, apparently.” She rubbed at the Band aid on her arm, having been caught in the crossfire of bathing an angry feline.

“Apparently.”

“He needs a name. We can’t keep calling him, cat,” O said.

A subdued Clarke sat patiently while an unscathed Raven administered to her wounds. At least this time her face had been spared. Her arms took the brunt of the attack.

“Do you have a name in mind, Clarke?” Raven asked.

Her reply was instant. “Satan.” Satan sat on the bed grooming himself. At least he smelled better.

“You can’t call your cat Satan. That’s weird.”

“Lucifer then.” Clarke was determined that the name match the fiend.

O and Raven gave some careful consideration to this new name.

“I think I like it,” Raven said.

“I do too,” O said. “Lucifer means morning star in some circles.”

“Lucifer, welcome home!” Raven declared. “He’s your spirit animal, Clarke.”

“Great. Just my luck.” Lucifer paused mid-groom, and, with pink tongue protruding from his mouth, glared.

Harry Potter had a cool snowy owl. Clarke had...the antichrist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We were in Florida last weekend. Had to shut up the house for hurricane season. First off, it was gross. Nobody, and I mean nobody, wore a mask. Second off, my old friend the tree frog visited. I was closing up the accordion shutters on the front door, and I spotted a froggie in the tract. I had to get him out or he would've been squished. So I get some stick and poke at him til he jumps out. He lands on the porch. Now mind you, I'm a good three feet away from him. But doesn't that mother fucker taking a flying leap onto my leg. And don't I shriek like a fucking toddler and scamper all over til he jumps off. Fucker.  
> Let's see. Do I have anything else for you? 
> 
> Evidently when I'm trapped in a car for twenty hours I feel the need to eat away my boredom. Yes, we drove. Who the hell would fly right now? We knew we didn’t want to eat out anywhere down there, and we didn’t wanna go to the store for food. So we packed the truck with everything in the pantry and fridge. I am not lying. The backseat was filled with food. We left the pet sitter a lone moldy tomato.  
> The wife, who eats like a hamster, exercised self control. I, on the other hand, felt the need to eat every hour. On the hour. I was like Old Faithful. Or Big Ben. I’d reach into the back and she’d say, “Eating again?”  
> I said, “I’m hungry.”  
> “Are you eating again?”  
> “I’m bored.”  
> “Are you really eating again?”  
> “I have a high metabolism.”  
> “My god? Are you eating again?”  
> I’ve run out of excuses. “Yes. I’m eating again.”  
> But I refused to be shamed. And I rewarded myself with a cold piece of chicken.  
> That's all I've got. Wear masks, people! Such a simple thing we can all do to stay safe.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find my Facebook page [here](https://www.facebook.com/lorig.matthews.71).  
> If you do friend me on facebook, send me a private message in messenger and say you're from the story. I've been getting a shit ton of friend requests, and I know I ain't that popular! I have no clue, but I think facebook just generates shit. One lady friended me, and then messaged me to say hi. I said, "Are you from ao3?" She's like, "No. You friended me. I didn't know who you were." What the hell? I never friended her. So yes. Facebook is creepy.  
> tumblr [here](https://lorig11.tumblr.com/).

[ ](https://imgur.com/Dq4jnAo)

I'm so proud she didn't eat it. You know me and frogs.

Chapter Nine

Once again, Lexa found herself staring into her closet, with crossed arms and a tapping toe. Her phone sat on the shelf with Clarke’s message on the display.

_This is the zoo. Button down blouses are out. If you don’t have a t-shirt I can loan you one. LOL._

It was supposed to be a pleasant day, not overly warm, so jeans should work. Now, about that T-shirt. She pulled open a drawer and dug down to the bottom, pulling out a soft, gray Philadelphia Flyers shirt a vendor had given her. Slipping it over her head, she stood back and admired her reflection. The shirt fit snugly, and she had to admit, it wasn’t a bad look. It was kinda sexy, actually. Maybe she should invest in more T-shirts.

She took one last look in the mirror and nodded with satisfaction. A small smile played around her lips when she remembered the flirty banter from yesterday. She looked forward to “the ruining.”

Her phone lit up with another text. This one from Gram confirming breakfast.

Since her zoo “date” wasn’t for a couple of hours, Lexa had time to go to Gram’s and spend some quality time with her three favorite ladies. She would leave from there and pick up Clarke.

* * *

“Well here she is, and oh my, what are you wearing?” Gram kissed her cheek.

“Good morning ladies. I’m going casual today.”

“Who are you and what have you done with my granddaughter?” Gram held her at arm’s length to inspect her outfit. “It’s perfect for the zoo.”

Suspicion clouded Lexa’s features. “I didn’t tell you I was going to the zoo.”

Gram turned and made a funny face at Lila. “Oops.”

Lexa’s brows drew into a straight line. “Have you been texting Clarke again?”

A sheepish Gram grinned. “Yes. I love her. She’s so much fun.”

“How often are you texting?” Lexa asked.

“All the time.”

“Gram!”

Gram giggled. “What? We both love art.”

“Mm-hmm. Is that all that’s going on?”

“That’s it my dear. We’re certainly not discussing you and your lack of a social life.”

Lexa sighed. “You’re incorrigible.”

“How was your trip to Chicago?” Lila asked.

“Ugh. It was boring. All the meetings were boring. All the people were boring.”

“Well, well, well,” Gram said. “You were never bored BC.”

Both Lexa and Lila gave her a questioning look.

“BC?” Lexa said.

“Before Clarke.”

Catherine and Lila cackled at the joke.

“Good one, Cat,” Lila said.

Lexa made a show of rolling her eyes. “You two.”

“Invite her to breakfast next weekend,” Gram said. “I promised I’d show her our collection.”

Lexa chuckled. “Okay.”

Gram became serious. “Any word on my baby yet?”

Lexa’s heart constricted at the look on her Gram’s face. “Not yet.” She grabbed her hand and squeezed. “We won’t stop looking until he’s safe at home.”

“I miss him.” She made a valiant effort to perk up. “Now. You have a good time today with Clarke. Promise me you’ll have a good time.”

“I will.”

“Bring us back something fun from the zoo,” Lila said.

* * *

Lexa’s driver tooted the horn when they arrived at Clarke’s building. She opted for the driver to save the hassle of looking for parking at the zoo. It was a warm, sunny Saturday, and the zoo would be crowded.

Soon Clarke was running out the door and locking it behind her. She crawled into the back seat of the white Tesla with a beaming smile on her face. “We have a chauffeur today?”

Lexa smiled. “We do. This is Henry.”

“Hi, Henry.”

Henry was an older gentleman with a neatly clipped graying beard and a bald head. The creases around his eyes crinkled with his smile. “Good afternoon, Miss.”

Clarke poked Lexa’s arm. “Look at you. Why you do own a T-shirt, Miss Woods.”

Lexa poked her back. “I do. I had to rush out to the store to buy one.”

Clarke’s mouth dropped open. “No, you didn’t!”

Lexa shook her head. “No, I didn’t. I had it in my drawer.”

“Holy shit, a T-shirt and a joke. Who are you and what have you done with Lexa Woods?”

Lexa laughed. “My Gram said the same thing when she saw me this morning. And, oh yeah, I know you two are texting besties.”

“She’s my bff now. I hope you’re not jealous. We have a lot in common.”

“I am jealous. But I’ll try and get over it.”

“Good. And the T-shirt looks fabulous on you by the way.”

“It does?”

“Yeah.” Clarke winked. “Very nice. Emphasis on very.”

Lexa hid a satisfied smile and diverted her eyes, but the pleasure that coursed through her was unmistakable. She cracked the window to cool off. Compliments were warming, evidently. At least compliments from Clarke. It wasn’t the first time she felt flushed when Clarke said something nice about her.

When the hot flash receded, Lexa picked up Clarke’s arm and inspected it. “Do I need to ask how you got these scratches?”

“Oh, wait ‘till you hear this one.”

Clarke relayed the smelly cat incident.

Lexa grabbed her side she laughed so hard. “So he’s living at your place now too?”

“Yes. I have a teenager and now I have a pet. He’s a devil and I named him Lucifer.”

“How apropos.”

“Right? I’m living in constant fear of something large falling on my head. At night he sleeps next to my pillow purring like a maniac.”

“Some people find that soothing.”

“Well. I don’t. Not yet anyway. If I’m still alive in a week, then maybe I’ll find it soothing.”

They pulled up to the zoo entrance and hopped out, thanking Henry. Clarke bought their admission tickets, which Lexa found adorable, and with an excited tug on her arm, led them through the turnstile. She pulled out the map and grabbed Lexa’s hand. “C’mon Rexi!”

Lexa pulled them to an abrupt stop. “What did you call me?”

Clarke bit her lip to keep from laughing. “What?”

“What did you call me?” Lexa tried not to smile, but her lips had other ideas, as they started a slow curve north. “How did you…? Oh no, she did not!”

“Oh, she did.” Clarke cackled at Lexa’s discomfort. She showed the text from Gram, and Clarke’s reply was visible, a gif of a cartoon T-rex.

Lexa pointed a playful finger in Clarke’s direction. “That nickname is personal. I was six. And I loved dinosaurs.” The fuss was half-hearted. It wasn’t the worst thing in the world if Clarke was privy to the nickname.

Clarke threw an arm around her shoulders and squeezed. “It’s okay, Rexi. I won’t tell anyone else.”

Lexa had no desire to disengage from this physical contact. It was pleasant, and comforting, and she could’ve spent all day with Clarke’s arm around her. Alas, it didn’t last long, because Clarke was distracted by the big cats and ran toward their enclosure, camera at the ready. But the ice was broken, in Lexa’s opinion. Touching was allowed. And it was now time to admit she was attracted to Clarke. Was it just a friendship attraction? Or something more? She had a feeling she’d have an answer soon.

When she joined Clarke at the leopards, she rested an elbow on Clarke’s shoulder. Clarke turned and was so close, Lexa could see the gold flecks around the irises of her eyes.

“I’ve always wanted to paint a leopard. They are the coolest animals.”

Lexa resisted the urge to place a wild curl behind Clarke’s ear. Would this be a day of urges that needed to be controlled? “You and cats.”

“Are you referring to my arch nemesis?”

“Is it nemeses? Plural? Since you’ve had a lot of run-ins with cats.”

“I think the plural is spelled the same.”

“Ah. You’re probably right.”

Over the next couple of hours, they circled the zoo and Clarke snapped pictures of all the big cats. Outside of the monkey exhibit, they poked their heads through the orangutan cut-outs and persuaded a passerby to take a picture. They laughed and shared an iced tea and every once in a while, a hand was touched, or an arm stroked, and Lexa chalked it all up to friendship affection.

Around 2 p.m., they took time-out to grab a bite to eat. The menu wasn’t exactly filled with healthy options, but they were hungry, so Clarke ordered hot dogs loaded with relish, onions and mustard.

“I can’t even remember the last time I ate a hot dog.” Lexa took a hesitant bite.

“Can’t say I make a habit of it either. But for one day it won’t kill us to eat junk.”

“We should probably have salads on Monday. As penance.”

“Hm, yeah...oh shit.”

“What?”

“I forgot to tell you.”

Lexa dabbed a glob of mustard from her lips. “Tell me what?”

“I have bad news.”

Lexa put her hot dog down and gave Clarke her full attention.

“Raven lined up a bunch of dog walking jobs for us. And I’m gonna have to quit the restaurant gig.”

Lexa’s shoulders sagged at the news. The thought of not seeing Clarke and her radiant smile every day she was at the office was utterly unacceptable. “No!”

“I have to. They get walked during lunch. And the money is soooo much better than what I make delivering lunches.”

Lexa tried to hide her disappointment. “I...I’m really going to miss eating lunch with you.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“I’m gonna miss it too.” Clarke shrugged. “Maybe we could get together and do something else?”

“Yes. You promised to ruin me. And I’m holding you to that promise.” Lexa took a determined bite of her hot dog, already plotting how to keep seeing Clarke. Dinners. Walks in the park. It was all on the table.

“Never fear! I shall not abandon you.”

They both smiled at their pact, and Lexa’s mood lifted. Hopefully, Clarke felt the same and they would still spend time together. She could work with whatever they came up with.

After another couple of hours circling the zoo, it was time to leave. But before they hit the exit, Lexa pulled Clarke into the gift store. “I have to buy Gram and Lila something.”

They walked around the store, searching shelves, looking for the perfect gift.

“I found it!” Clarke called.

When Lexa turned, there was Clarke with an arm around a giant giraffe. A giraffe so tall, it’s head brushed the ceiling. It was ridiculous. Perfectly ridiculous.

The only way Poindexter, so named by Clarke, fit in the car was to have him sideways across the back seat, hanging out both windows. Every time a car passed, they would beep the horn and Clarke would give an exaggerated wave.

When they arrived at Clarke’s place, Henry pulled to a stop and put the car in park.

Clarke smiled. “What a fun day.”

“It was a lot of fun.”

Lexa wanted to lock the doors and spirit Clarke away to dinner. She wasn’t ready to say goodbye. Not yet. But a typical inner battle raged. Her always cautious nature vs. let your hair down. Should she step back and figure out what exactly was going on here?

“Have dinner with me,” Lexa blurted out. Let your hair down won out. Again. It was said with more exuberance than she would have liked, but it was too late to rescind it. Perhaps she should walk it back a smidge. “If you’re hungry, of course. If not, then, no problem.”

“Oh.” Clarke laughed. “I thought for sure you would have had enough of me and the whole ‘ruining’ today.”

“No. Ruining is good. Fun is good. I’m converted.”

“Well, unfortunately, I’m supposed to have dinner with friends tonight.”

Lexa hid her disappointment. “Of course. It’s Saturday night. Everybody usually has plans on Saturday night.”

“Not me. Not usually anyway.”

Their eyes locked for a few seconds and it made Lexa’s skin tingle. Something was there, behind those blue eyes. She could see it and sense it.

“Well, maybe next time,” Lexa said.

“Definitely next time, I promise.”

“Oh, I almost forgot. I talked to Wells at the Woods House last night. They have a group session tomorrow around dinner. I think they order pizza for everyone. He said Aden is welcome to attend.”

“Really? Tomorrow night?”

“Yeah. If you want, we can take him. I’m free.”

“That would be great. Let’s do it.”

Lexa once again tried to hide her feelings, only this time, instead of disappointment, it was happiness, at the thought of seeing Clarke again tomorrow. “I’ll pick you both up then and we’ll go together.”

“Okay. Text me when you’re on your way.” Clarke climbed out of the back seat and stuck her head back in the open window. “Thanks again for a great time today.”

Clarke’s lips were not far away, and Lexa had to fight what she hoped would be the last urge of the afternoon. “You’re welcome. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

After arriving at her empty apartment, Lexa poured some bourbon into a tumbler and headed out to the balcony. The Philadelphia skyline stretched as far as the eye could see, bathed in the soft orange glow of the setting sun. It was picture perfect. Almost.

For the first time in a long time, she felt lonely. Usually she looked forward to quiet nights at home, but tonight, something was missing. Someone was missing. Someone who burst into her life just a few short weeks ago and brought with her a joie de vivre that was contagious.

Clarke was the lone bright spot in her life right now. It was time to admit that it was more than just a friendship attraction. Lexa was falling for Clarke. Should she pump the brakes? Was it too soon? Was she making a mistake breaking the vow she made so long ago after Costia?

Clarke’s warm smile swam in front of her face, and the tiny voice that had been quiet for so long whispered, _let it happen_.

* * *

Early the next morning, the Pet Investigators were on the case. Clarke and Raven walked Gram’s neighborhood, talking to anyone they saw out and about. When no one was around, they discussed Clarke’s adventure at the zoo.

“Well, it sounds like your date-not-a-date went really well.”

Clarke nodded. “It was a lot of fun. It’s like watching a moth turn into a butterfly.”

“She was already hot. Hence, she’s already a butterfly.”

“I’m not talking about looks. I’m talking about personality. At first, she was, like, standoffish, you know? But that’s not who she really is. She’s playful, and fun, and quick to laugh at my stupid jokes. I really like to make her laugh.”

Raven looked at her sideways, putting Clarke on the defensive. “What?”

“Nothing.”

Clarke sensed that Raven wasn’t buying what Clarke was selling. Which was, nothing other than normal friendship was happening between her and Lexa. And even though Clarke had never divulged the eye fucking, her bestie was quite perceptive. She decided a change in subject was in order, because she still wanted to keep her feelings close to the vest for now. “Look at this place. Wow.”

They stopped at a gated driveway three houses down from Gram’s. A large eight foot stone wall surrounded the property, but the house was visible through the iron gate at the beginning of the driveway.

Raven whistled. “Wow is right.” The massive stone estate beyond the fence was u-shaped, with a courtyard in the middle. She dug into her backpack and pulled out one of her real estate flyers. “I need to leave one of my flyers here. You think if I buzz, they’ll let me in?”

“I have no doubt they _will not_ let you in.”

“Where can I put my flyer?”

“I don’t know. Just tape it to the gate, I guess. They’ll see it eventually.”

Raven huffed but did as Clarke said. Suddenly a dog barked somewhere on the estate grounds.

“Wait! Did you hear that?”

“What?”

“A dog barked. It could be Caesar!”

“In there?”

“Yes!” Raven grabbed the bars to the gate and peered between them. “We have to get in there and look.”

“How do you propose we do that?” Clarke asked.

With hands on hips, Raven assessed the situation. Her eyes lit up. About twenty feet away a large oak grew in front of the wall. Its thick branches grew on both sides of the stone wall. “There. We’ll climb that tree and hop over the wall.”

“Oh no. We can’t jump over the wall. No way. And it’s probably their dog.”

The canine in question barked again. The timbre of the bark suggested a large animal. He howled and the hair on Clarke’s neck stood up. He did not sound friendly.

Raven pointed at the sound. “That right there, is a cry for help.”

“How do you know that?”

“I’ve been watching _Animal Planet_ the last two weeks. C’mon.” Raven walked over to the tree and hauled herself up a few feet. “This is easy, the branches are strong.” Soon she perched on the top of the wall and waved at Clarke. “Let’s go. You can do it. You work out.”

Clarke grimaced as she grabbed the lowest branch. “I don’t work out! Why do you keep saying that?”

With much grunting and groaning and straining, Clarke navigated her way to the top of the wall. She bent over from the exertion, swallowing large gulps of air. “I gotta work out more.”

“Okay, let’s get in there and save Caesar.” Raven sat down on the wall, turned herself and slowly slid down to the grass.

When she was safely on the ground, she reached up to help Clarke, who tumbled down, but remained upright. Clarke dusted her hands together to remove the dirt from the top of the wall. “Now what?”

“We find the dog. After I put this flyer on the front door.” She led the way across the expansive lush lawn toward the front door.

“I do not have a good feeling about this. We’ll probably get arrested for trespassing. I’m sure this place has security cameras,” Clarke grumbled.

“Ppfft. They won’t even notice.”

When the girls arrived at the front door, Raven slid a flyer under the door. A menacing growl startled them. Quickly turning, they came face-to-face with the mystery barker. A large Doberman snarled. His lips curled above his incisors and bits of saliva dripped from his mouth.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Clarke whispered. “Don’t move.”

“Caesar?” Raven asked the angry canine.

* * *

“Well, this is a first for me. How about you?” Raven asked.

Clarke’s jaw clenched as she fumed. “Can’t say I’ve ever been arrested before.”

Both sat in the back of a police cruiser, with hands cuffed and seat belts on.

“What’s the matter? You look pissed,” Raven said.

“What’s the matter? _What’s the matter?_ We’re on our way to jail! What the fuck do you think is the matter?” Clarke blew out an angry breath as she watched the scenery go by.

“Consider it an adventure. Something to tell your kids about someday.”

“How are we getting out of this mess? I’m supposed to meet Lexa later today and take Aden to the Woods House”

“I’ll get us out. Don’t worry.”

Once again, the thought of living in an orange jumpsuit pitter-pattered around Clarke’s brain. “I really don’t look good in orange,” she muttered.

Later, both sat in the interrogation room at the precinct while the arresting officer wrote up a report. The room was empty, save for the table and four chairs surrounding it. The walls were a dull green and the place had a musty smell.

Raven stared at the wall-sized mirror across the room. She nodded her head toward it and addressed the officer. “They’re watching us, aren’t they? Probably filming us.”

He ignored the question and continued to write.

“Clarke.”

Clarke turned and glared.

“Bet we’re on camera. You should smile. You look grouchy.”

Clarke harrumphed and looked away.

Raven continued to stare into the mirror, trying different looks. Pouty, seductive, playful. “Do you think we can get a copy of this video? I’d love to post it on TikTok. We should take a picture in our handcuffs. Post it on Instagram.”

Clarke let fly with some snark. “Why don’t you put it on your flyer? ‘Wanna sell your house? Call the jailbird.’”

“Very funny, Clarke.”

“Call the Perp, she’ll get it done.” Clarke took a beat before continuing. “I just got out of jail, but I can still sell your house. You may have to post my bail first!”

“That won’t fit on a flyer.”

Clarke imitated the look on Raven’s face from said flyer. “I’ve got a list of priors as long as my arm. Call me!”

“Well, you’re on quite a roll, aren’t you?”

“Knock, knock.”

They turned and found Lt. Rivers standing in the doorway.

“Lieutenant! ‘Bout time you got here,” Raven said.

Clarke glanced at Raven questioningly. “How did she…”

“I texted her.”

Lt. Rivers slid into an empty chair opposite Raven and Clarke. “What do we have here, Johnson?”

The officer looked over his report. “Homeowner called in a 10-37. Upon arrival, we found these two on the front porch playing with the dog.”

Raven swatted Clarke’s arm. “We’re a 10-37. How cool is that?”

“Playing with the dog? That dog almost killed us,” Clarke clarified.

“Did you do a 10-27 and 10-29?” Luna asked.

The officer nodded. “They’re clean.”

“I’ll take it from here.”

He picked up his report.

“Leave that with me.”

He dropped it on the table and walked out.

Raven watched him leave. “He’s a downer. Remind me to bring him a donut next time.”

“Next time?” Clarke asked with a scowl.

Lt. Rivers tipped the chair back, put her feet on the table, and locked her fingers behind her head. “So what happened?”

Both women began talking over each other.

“Well, we were working on a case, a missing dog...” Raven started.

“She made me scale a stone fence…”

“...and we heard barking in this yard.”

“Yard? It was bigger than a yard…”

“A yard’s a yard, Clarke…”

“This was acres big. Like a small park.”

“What’s your point?”

“My point is, we had no business being in there.” Clarke crossed her arms in a tiff.

“Excuse me? Aren’t we supposed to go above and beyond—”

“We just got arrested!”

Luna’s phone rang and she raised a finger. “Hold that thought.” She answered the call. “Hey...okay...what’s your 10-20...got it. Give me about half an hour. Later.” She disconnected the call. “You were saying?”

“What’s a 10-20?” Raven asked.

“Location.”

“Cool.”

Luna tilted her chair back again. “So, let’s start at the beginning. You decided to ignore the ‘Private Property’ sign and scaled the wall.”

Raven’s head bobbed. “Yes. Cause we heard a dog barking. A clear 10-42.”

Clarke punched her in the arm. “I’ll 10-42 you right in the head.”

“Ow.” Raven punched her back and a slap and tickle fight unfolded.

Luna watched in amusement. “All right break it up. I don’t wanna have to call in a 10-10.”

“What’s a 10-10?” Clarke asked.

“Fight in progress.” She chuckled. “Although I’ve seen toddlers hit harder than that. It might not qualify as a 10-10.”

Clarke crossed her arms and stewed.

Luna placed folded hands on the table. “Okay. Let’s recap. There was a dog. Who barked.”

“She insisted it was a cry for help,” Clarke said sarcastically.

Raven glared at her.

Luna cocked an eyebrow. “You thought it was a cry for help.”

Clarke’s sarcastic tone continued. “She watches _Animal Planet_ now, so she’s an expert in animal speak. A regular Dr. Doolittle.”

An annoyed Raven rolled her eyes. “Okay, Clarke.”

“How’d you get over the wall?” Luna asked.

Raven leaned forward. “Well, it was genius really. There was a tree, and the branches hung over the wall, so we climbed it and jumped over.” She sat back with a smug look on her face.

Clarke could see the appreciative look in Luna’s eyes for Raven’s ingenuity. And something else. Flirting. They were flirting! Now, of all times. When life in an orange jumpsuit was staring them in the face. “Are we going to jail?” she asked impatiently.

An amused smile touched Luna’s lips. “Nah. I know the homeowner and smoothed things over. He’s dropping the charges.”

Clarke sagged in relief. “Thank God.”

Luna stood. “Let’s go. I’ll give you a ride back to your car.”

As they made their way through the busy precinct, Raven said, “We owe you big time for this one. Do you have any pets?”

“I do. I have a sphynx.”

“I don’t know what the fuck that is, but if you ever lose it, let us know.”

Luna chuckled. “It’s a cat.”

“From Egypt?”

“No. It’s a special breed.”

“What’s so special about it?”

“It has no fur.”

Raven stopped mid stride. “It has no fur? Like it’s naked?”

“Yeah.” Luna pulled out her phone and brought up a picture. “Her name is Isis.”

“Okay, that’s fucking weird. How do you make a cat with no hair?”

Luna laughed again. “Selective breeding.”

“Huh. Well, if you lose her, we’ll find her. For free. Just give us your 10-20 and we’ll be right over.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

An annoyed Clarke observed the entire exchange. Talk about eye fucking.

* * *

Lexa arrived promptly at 4:30 p.m. to pick up Clarke and Aden. When they piled into her car, Clarke made the introductions.

“Lexa, this is Aden, Aden, Lexa.”

A shy Aden extended a hand. “It’s nice to meet you. Thank you so much for doing this.”

Lexa grasped his hand and smiled warmly. “It’s my pleasure. I think you’re going to like it. It’s a very welcoming atmosphere. Very family-like.”

When they arrived, Wells, the lead counselor greeted them and gave them a tour of the house, introducing any kids and counselors they met along the way. When the group therapy session was ready to start, Wells recommended that Lexa and Clarke wait in another room.

Since the weather was pleasant, they grabbed a few offered slices of pizza and sat on the front porch steps, close enough that their legs brushed. A small knot of excitement thrummed low in Clarke’s belly. What was this new torture? If she didn’t know better, she swore it felt like sexual attraction. First the flirting from Friday, then the affectionate touching from yesterday at the zoo, and now this? She needed to get her mind off of the warmth generated by their close proximity, so she concentrated on her pizza slice and they ate in silence for a few minutes.

When they were both finished, they let out satisfied sighs.

Clarke peeked back at the front door. “You think he’ll be all right in there? Should we have stayed?”

“Listen to you. You sound like a momma bear protecting her cub.”

“Ugh. I do. I’m pathetic.”

“No, you’re not.”

“I have to say though, this place is impressive.”

“It is. I’m really proud of the work we do. I think it may be the best thing I’ve ever done.”

“So you said you were expanding?”

“Yes.” Lexa pointed to the house next door. “We’re buying that house. Needs some work to bring it up to code, but that shouldn’t take long. We’ll hire some LBGTQ contractors for the construction. We like to keep it in the family, so to speak.”

Clarke leaned back to take in all of Lexa’s beautiful visage. “You’re amazing.”

“No, I’m not.”

Lexa looked away, but not before Clarke saw the warmth bloom in her cheeks. Clarke found Lexa’s humility heartwarming. “You are. And you’re blushing.”

“I’m not blushing.” She continued to stare off in another direction, refusing to meet Clarke’s stare.

“Yes, you are. Which is adorable by the way.”

Lexa chuckled. With a deep breath she turned, and her green eyes locked onto Clarke’s. “Okay. I’ll take adorable.”

A moment of silence followed, and a crackle of electricity vibrated between them.

“How are you single?” Clarke blurted out. She knew the whole Costia story from Gus, but still. This woman was amazing.

Lexa shrugged. “By choice, I guess. How about you? You never talk about any significant other.”

“I’m single.”

“Well, I guess I could ask the same question. Why are you single?”

Clarke laughed. “In case you haven’t noticed. I’m broke, I’m squatting in a storefront, and I’m trying to make a living tracking down lost pets. Who would want to be with me right now?” She was too embarrassed to even mention the fiasco this morning.

Lexa scoffed. “None of that matters. You’re incredible. You’re warm and caring. You’re attractive and fun-loving. You’re determined and headstrong, in a good way. And I haven’t known you for very long, but I do know you’d give the shirt off your back to help someone. Which makes you the most amazing person on this porch.”

Clarke was stunned by the list of wonderful adjectives that fell from Lexa’s lips. “Well. I could say the exact same about you.”

“How about we agree we’re both good people.”

“Okay. Deal.” Clarke picked at a loose thread on her jeans. “But still, you’re a catch. You should be caught.”

Lexa took a sip of water and replaced the cap on the bottle. “I was caught once. And it ended badly.”

Clarke waited for some elaboration. When none was forthcoming, she simply said, “I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about. After that, I made a conscious choice to not fall in love again. And so far, so good.”

“That’s silly. You just haven’t met the right person.”

Lexa turned and once again their eyes locked. “Is that so?”

Suddenly, Clarke felt like she was drowning in the emerald depth of those eyes, and had to stop herself from saying, _maybe you have met the right person, and it’s me,_ because that would be totally out of line. And out of left field. And what the fuck was she feeling for this woman?

But it seemed as if Lexa heard that internal monologue, because the air that crackled before, was positively explosive now, and Clarke’s heart fluttered inside her chest.

Lexa leaned closer and Clarke parted her lips in anticipation. In anticipation of the kiss that was coming. A kiss she was going to let happen.

“Clarke!”

They both shifted away from each other as Aden barreled out the door.

“It was so good! I met a bunch of kids and they were all so nice.”

Clarke stood and Aden fell into her embrace. “That’s awesome.” She ruffled his hair.

“Wells said next Saturday they’re all going hiking up in the Poconos for the day. He said I could come if I wanted.”

“Do you want to go?”

“Yes. Is that okay?”

“Of course, it’s okay. I bet Linc will take you out and help you find some hiking shoes.”

“Cool.” He ran back inside to say goodbye to his new friends.

Lexa stood and shoved her hands into the pockets of her jeans. “This is good for him.”

“It is.” Clarke bit her bottom lip. Did her expression mirror her regret? The regret of not receiving that kiss she so desperately wanted. But seeing Aden so excited took some of the sting out of not receiving it. “He looked so happy, I almost cried.”

Lexa’s lips quirked up. “Momma bear.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to get this posted today, but I can't come up with a funny note. However, I can tell you about a most embarrassing moment that happened to me last week. It's slightly gross. So if you're prudish, skip the note. I was golfing last weekend with three other ladies. And when it was my turn to hit my shot, they were all near by in their carts. So I swing, and as soon as I hit the ball...I passed gas. Yes. I farted. And it was loud and it was fucking mortifying. (Okay, don't act like you never fart.) Now mind you, these weren't close buds I was golfing with. You know, you fart in front of your close buds, and you're like, "I gotta fart." And you say it kinda proudly. Cause they're your close buds, and buds can do these kinds of gross things in front of each other. Otherwise, they wouldn't be close buds. I meekly said, "Excuse me," cause what the fuck else am I gonna say? I guess I could've pretended it never happened. What's the saying? "Dance like nobody is watching?" Well, I'm gonna add to that. "Fart like nobody can hear."


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clexa Goes to Hollywood, aka #CassiNova news! Editing is done, and now it's in "copy editing," which I think is just punctuationy type stuff. The editing process was not as bad as I thought it was going to be. So, either I did a better job on my second submission, or the editor gave up. LOL. I think the final word count came in around 79k. A far cry from my first submission which was 126k.  
> Find my Facebook page [here](https://www.facebook.com/lorig.matthews.71).  
> tumblr [here](https://lorig11.tumblr.com/).

Here's my baby gay E. with Dufus. Please note the cool hat her momma gay sent her four years ago. Yes. It's been four years. Time flies and all that happy horse shit. So proud of her!

Chapter Ten

Clarke returned her last charge safely to his house and locked the door. Today was Wednesday, her third day of dog walking, but her first alone. Raven had been with her the previous two days to help establish a routine. The “pack” was very manageable, and Clarke was really enjoying it. The joy was bittersweet though. She missed Lexa. Although she wouldn’t have seen her this week anyway because she had to go to Chicago Monday morning. 

She pulled out her phone to read the message again. It came equipped with a sad emoji face and was full of regrets and made Clarke smile. She didn’t know if she’d be back before the weekend. They’d texted a bit last night, but Lexa had been exhausted because of the long days.

There were many moments when Clarke found herself thinking back to the “almost” kiss. Sometimes she was filled with regret, and sometimes she was shocked at her own reaction, wanting it so badly. It was downright scary. This was crazy. She barely knew her!

She brought up the Uber app on her phone, intending to get a ride back to the shop.

“Hey you.”

Clarke looked up and her mouth dropped open in surprise. Speak of the devil. One very sexy devil. “When did you get back?” 

Lexa leaned against the hood of her car with arms crossed. “About an hour ago.”

Clarke walked over and without even thinking, collapsed into her arms.

They swayed together for a few seconds.

When Clarke pulled back, she couldn’t stop smiling. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming back today?”

“I wanted to surprise you. And. I brought lunch.” She pointed into her open passenger side window. Two large take out bags sat on the seat.

Clarke took a whiff and salivated. “Burgers?”

“Of course. And fries, because, why not?”

“I’m starving.”

“I was hoping you would say that. I wasn’t sure if you would’ve eaten earlier or not.”

“I didn’t. The park is a couple of blocks away, why don’t we eat there?”

“Lunch in the park? Sounds positively ruinous.” 

Clarke laughed and they gathered up the food. Suddenly the day was a hundred percent brighter. This woman certainly affected her. In a good way. “How did you even find me?”

“I talked to Raven. It took a few minutes to actually get to the part about where you would be. I had to suffer through a sales pitch. She wants me to sell my apartment, through her of course, and buy something much bigger and more expensive.”

Clarke looked to the heavens. “Sounds like Raven.”

They arrived at Schuylkill River Park, which was nestled along the banks of the river. It was a lovely day, so the park was overflowing with people enjoying the warm, spring day.

Lexa scanned the area with her hands on her hips. “Ugh. I forgot to bring a blanket for us to sit on.”

“Well, Miss Woods, I guess you’ll have to actually sit in the grass.”

“Am I to be ruined in the grass?”

Clarke swallowed a very large lump in her throat at the X-rated visual that shot into her brain. It involved peeling off layers of clothes and lying in the soft grass, pressing her body into Lexa’s. Probably a good thing Lexa wasn’t a mind reader. 

She plopped down and patted the space next to her. “Down you go. Let’s get some grass stains on those pants of yours.”

Lexa gingerly lowered herself.

“And now, the _pièce de résistance_!” Clarke said in her best French accent. “Off with your shoes!” She removed her own and stuck her toes in the grass. 

Lexa cocked one brow. “My shoes?”

“C’mon. You’re not ruined if you’re not barefoot.”

Lexa wore a doubtful expression, but she did it. She slipped off her trendy loafers and cautiously tickled the top of the grass with her toes.

“Oh c’mon. Jam those toes into the grass. Jam ‘em in there.” Clarke demonstrated. “Ah, feels so good.”

Lexa grimaced, but again, did as she was told. “Why do I feel like Richard Gere in _Pretty Woman_?”

“That’s one of my mom’s favorite movies.” Clarke made a comical face. “I guess that makes me Julia Roberts.” She took a beat, then for no earthly reason, blurted out, “But I like to kiss.”

Lexa’s eyes widened.

“Ah, you know, she was a hooker, and she refused to kiss her clients…”

Lexa gave her a wry smile. “Yeah, I’ve seen the movie.”

Clarke brushed a leaf off her pants to hide her embarrassment.

“Good to know,” Lexa teased. “That you like kissing.”

“Um. Yeah.”

“I mean, who doesn’t?” 

Those green eyes sparkled back, and Clarke suddenly felt shy. She bit her lip and looked out over the river. “Kissing is, ah, fun.”

“Kissing is fun.”

Clarke snuck a peek at Lexa again, and the look directed at her was intense. Or maybe she was imagining it. She decided she was imagining it, because again, why would someone this put together shoot her an intense passion-filled look? “I can’t believe you brought me lunch.”

“I owed you, what with all the times you brought me mine.”

“That was my job...I mean, it was the best part of my job. So, it really wasn’t like a job.”

Lexa laughed. “I see. I was just a job.”

“No, no. I didn’t mean that.”

When Lexa stopped chuckling, she said, “I know. What are you doing Saturday morning? Your bestie wants you to come over for breakfast.”

Breakfast at the mansion? There was no hesitation. “I’m free.” She enjoyed her interactions with Catherine, and maybe she’d get to see her art collection. “Will you be there?”

“Yes. I can pick you up around eight thirty.”

And just like that, she had something to look forward to. Eye fucking and a “maybe” art tour. “Sounds good. I’m down with some breakfast with the ladies.”

After finishing lunch, they relaxed in the warm afternoon sun. 

“How’s Aden?” Lexa asked.

“He’s good. He’s going on that hike this weekend. Linc loves him. He treats him like a little brother. It’s really cute.”

“I was talking to Luna yesterday about open beds at the Woods House. Aden’s situation came up, how he’s living with you. She gently reminded me that social services should be involved.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s underage, and a runaway. Technically, it’s illegal for him to be staying with you because you’re not his legal guardian.”

“Is she gonna report him?”

“No. I think she’s hoping we do the right thing.”

Clarke sighed. “Does that mean he’ll go into the foster system?”

“Not if he takes the open bed at the home.”

Clarke became pensive. She didn’t need legal trouble on top of what was going on in her life right now. Maybe she should bring this all up tonight when he got home. “I’ll talk to him tonight.”

Lexa dipped her head. “I’m sorry.”

“No. He needs more than I can give him.”

“You can still hang out with him.”

Clarke nodded, but she still felt sad.

After another half hour of small talk, they meandered back to Lexa’s car. Of course, she offered to drive her back, and of course Clarke accepted. When they parked in front of the store, Clarke fiddled with her keys. “Do you want to hang out?”

Lexa sighed. “I wish I could. I have to get back to the office. They expected me back hours ago. But I preferred to be ruined.”

“I’m quite the bad influence on you.”

“You are. But I like it.”

Clarke hesitated. Sitting in a car didn’t allow for a hug goodbye. And she wanted that hug. Ugh. Maybe next time. She opened the door and stuck her head back inside the car. “Well thanks for the ride, and for lunch.”

“You’re very welcome. Thanks for the company.”

Clarke watched the car turn the corner and stared long after it was gone. Oh well. There was always Saturday for that aforementioned hug. Her phone buzzed with a text from Raven. 

_Dinner tonight? We’ll be there around six?_

_Who’s we?_

_Me and the O’sky._

_Got it. See you at six._

Clarke unlocked the door and threw her keys on the desk. The pee green bean bag looked inviting, so she sunk into it. While an absent finger twirled a lock of hair, she thought back to her lunch. Lexa brought her lunch. She went out of her way. She made herself late for work. Workaholic Lexa late for work. Why? To bring Clarke lunch.

Was she feeling what Clarke was feeling? Was she thinking about Clarke while she toiled away on contracts and proposals? When she lay in bed at night, did she daydream about the almost kiss, like Clarke did?

That look today. The look that gave her goosebumps. The good kind of goosebumps. The exciting kind. The anticipatory kind.

Lucifer appeared and stalked around the room. He stopped in front of Clarke and meowed.

“Can I help you?”

More restless stalking followed. Occasionally he would plop down and lick at his undercarriage. 

“That’s kinda gross.”

He found this statement offensive. With his tail in the air and a kitty huff, he sauntered back to the bedroom.

“Good talk.” _Crazy cat._

* * *

Octavia arrived promptly at six.

Clarke gave her a hug. “Where’s Rae?”

O shrugged. “I thought she was with you.”

“Nope. I haven’t seen her all day.”

“I’ll text her.”

The reply was instant.

“What’d she say?” Clarke asked.

O’s lip curled in confusion. “It says 10-76. What the fuck does that mean?”

“Ugh. It’s her new thing. Police codes.” 

Before they could continue the conversation, a rumble from an eight-cylinder engine drew their attention to the street in front of the store. An all-black Dodge Charger had pulled up to the curb. It idled for about thirty seconds before the passenger door opened. Raven stepped out and when the car window came down, she leaned in and exchanged a quick kiss with the driver.

“Who’s that?” O asked.

Clarke squinted and inhaled sharply. “That’s the detective!”

O cocked a brow. “Huh. So that’s where she was last night.”

Raven pushed open the door with a flourish. “I have 10-23’ed!”

Clarke and O stared with open mouths.

“What?”

Clarke pointed out the door. “That was the detective.” 

“Yeah. So?”

“Why are you getting out of her car?” Clarke asked.

“She lost her cat. So, she called me.”

“Did you find it?”

With a smirk, she said, “Yes.”

Clarke crossed her arms. “Where was it?”

Raven pursed her lips and took a second to answer. “Under her bed.”

O burst out laughing. “Oh my God. You’re banging a cop?”

Raven shrugged. “Maybe?”

When O was done guffawing, her expression turned serious. “Well done.”

Clarke took a moment to find her voice. “She just arrested us a few days ago.”

Raven lowered her brows. “She didn’t arrest us, Clarke. She bailed us out.”

“Same thing.”

“They’re not remotely the same. Now let’s go! I’m 10-7 for a C2.”

Clarke rolled her eyes. Now she’d have to print out a cheat sheet of cop codes just to have a conversation with her.

“I gotta use the bathroom before we go,” O declared, and headed to the back room.

Clarke’s phone rang. “Hey mom.”

While Clarke exchanged small talk with her mom, O poked her head out of the back room. “Ah, Rae. Can you come back here for a sec?”

Distracted by the expression on O’s face, Clarke lost track of the conversation. “I’m sorry, mom. What was that?”

Raven walked into the backroom, and Clarke strained to hear what they were saying while simultaneously carrying on a conversation with her mom. Murmurs and giggles were the only things audible.

Soon both women walked back into the room and waited for Clarke to finish her phone call.

When she hung up, she grabbed her keys. “Where are we eating?”

“How about that new place on Camac?” O asked.

“I heard they have good buffalo wings,” Raven said. “Oh, and Clarke. I think you should rename your cat Lucy.”

Clarke gave pause while Raven and O walked toward the door. “Why would I rename the cat?”

Raven turned. “Well, unless we just witnessed a modern miracle, in which case, I hope we can make money off of it, it’s probably a female.”

A befuddled Clarke hustled into the back room and looked for Lucifer. There he was, huddled in the laundry basket with Clarke’s clean, neatly folded clothes. Only he wasn’t alone. Four tiny balls of fluff were tucked next to his abdomen. “Holy fuck!”

The girls decided to use DoorDash now that Clarke’s bedroom had become an obstetric ward, because one never knew if one needed to provide midwife services to a birthing feline. Every once in a while, Clarke would check in on Lucy and report back. “That’s seven now. Seven kittens.”

“Holy shit, Clarke. I guess you should’ve kept better tabs on your pet,” Raven said.

“Very funny. Maybe you should’ve helped me keep better tabs on my pet. But you were too busy on your 10-69.”

O cackled. “Good one.” They exchanged a high five. 

Raven pulled out her phone and dialed a number. “Babe. When’s our next 10-69?” She stuck her tongue out at Clarke and O, then giggled at Luna’s response. “I know. Clarke thought of it, of all people.”

“Hey.” Clarke launched a french-cut green bean in the general vicinity of Raven’s noggin.

Later that evening, Aden and Clarke stared at the new additions to the family. 

“Their eyes aren’t even opened yet,” Aden said.

“I know. And look how small they are.”

“What are we going to do with them all?”

Clarke scrunched up her face in thought. “I guess we have to find them homes.”

“Maybe we could keep one?”

Clarke smiled. “We’ll see. So, are you excited for the hike this Saturday?”

Aden’s face lit up. “Yeah. I can’t wait. Linc took me shopping today and I got some hiking shorts and shoes.”

“That’s great.” Clarke took a deep breath before continuing. “So, Lexa said there’s a bed available at the home. I know you said you wanted to stay here. But, she also informed me that this is kinda illegal. You living here with me.”

“Why?”

“You’re a minor. And I’m not your legal guardian. And there’s all sorts of red tape when it comes to runaways.”

“But my parents threw me out. So, I had no choice.”

“I know.” Clarke sighed. “The Woods House works with social services, so if you live there, they take care of all the legal stuff.”

Clarke could see Aden processing this new information, and she felt the need to reassure him. “We’ll still hang out. Every day if you want. And Linc and Octavia will still be in your life too.”

His eyes pooled with moisture.

She cupped a hand to his cheek. “Hey. We will never abandon you. I promise. Besides. You have to help me with eight kittens. And a demon mommy cat.”

His lips twitched up at the corners. “You will need help.”

“Oh, I definitely will.”

After a few seconds, he nodded. “Okay.” 

Clarke hugged him.

When they pulled apart, his forlorn look had disappeared. “I’ve been texting this one kid I met on Sunday. He’s my age, and he was thrown out of his house too. He’s cool. I really like him.”

Clarke’s grin spread across her face. “See? You’re already making friends. Soon I’ll be the one begging _you_ to visit _me_!”

He laughed and they shared another hug. 

And Clarke knew. She knew he’d be fine.

*** * ***

On Saturday morning, Lexa arrived early at the store, so she parked and knocked on the door.

Clarke hustled over and unlocked the door. “Hey, I’m almost ready.” She grabbed Lexa’s hand and pulled her into the bedroom. “Come see my new family members.”

“Oh right. The kittens!”

With hands on their knees, they leaned over to inspect all the tiny fur balls. Some were black and white, some were orange, and some were gray. Lucy stared back with a bemused expression.

“So all this time you thought Lucifer was a boy.,” Lexa said.

“Yep.”

“That’s kind of funny.”

“Yep.”

“When do they open their eyes?” 

“Usually after a week. Then they start walking around three weeks.”

Lexa smiled. “You know a lot about kittens.”

“I do now.” Clarke reached out and stroked Lucy’s head. “Poor Lucy. Pushing eight of these little suckers out.” She straightened. “All right. Let me just change my shirt.”

“Take your time, I’m a few minutes early.”

Before Lexa could turn around, Clarke whipped off her T-shirt and grabbed a blouse from the makeshift closet. Lexa tried to avert her eyes, but all the soft skin on display hypnotized. Full breasts pushed against a white bra, and Lexa swore they were begging to be touched. 

She mentally chided herself for staring, but God help her, she couldn’t look away. She ached to dip her tongue between them. She ached to tease those nipples to attention. Soon Clarke was buttoning the blouse, slamming the door on Lexa’s burgeoning desires.

Clarke looked up and Lexa hoped she couldn’t see the naked desire in her eyes.

“Okay. I’m ready.”

They walked into the other room and Clarke’s phone rang. “Oh my God!”

“What?” Lexa asked.

“It’s the art gallery. Shit. I’m afraid to answer it.” Clarke’s face pinched with angst. 

“Take a deep breath and answer it.” 

“All right.” Clarke swiped across her phone. “Hello? Yes, this is she. Yes. Okay.”

Her face began a slow transformation. The worried lines around her eyes slowly disappeared. Her mouth, set in a firm line, slowly lifted at the corners.

“I understand. Yes, Ma’am. Thank you.” She disconnected the call and sought out Lexa with her eyes. 

Lexa spread her arms wide. “Well?”

“I was picked. My pictures were picked!” She jumped into Lexa’s arms.

Lexa spun her around. “That’s wonderful!” 

“I can’t believe it!”

When Lexa completed the second revolution, she let Clarke slide through her grasp. They stood still for a second. Lexa’s eyes left Clarke’s and strayed to Clarke’s lips. She made the smallest move toward those lips, but Clarke pulled back. When their eyes met again, Lexa saw confusion and something else. A question. A wonder. And deep down, she knew. Clarke was feeling this attraction too. She dropped her arms and Clarke stepped away, her cheeks brushed with a pinkish hue. 

“Maybe I’ll actually sell a painting, to someone besides you. I can’t wait to tell Catherine!”

Lexa smiled. Somehow, the friendship between her Gram and Clarke made her so happy.

* * *

“Catherine, I wanna paint your house. I love it,” Clarke said. 

They all sat around the table enjoying their breakfast.

Catherine put a hand over her heart. “Oh my dear, if you do, I’ll buy it from you.”

“You would?”

“Absolutely.”

“Clarke has news,” Lexa said.

“What?” Lila asked.

Clarke took a deep breath then let it out. “Two of my paintings will be on display and for sale at the Chestnut Street Art Gallery!” 

Lila and Catherine clapped with excitement. 

“That’s wonderful! Did Rexi put in a good word for you with Anya?” Catherine asked.

Lexa shook her head. “I did not. It was all Clarke.” She toasted Clarke with her cup of coffee and a smile.

Clarke returned the smile. “She wanted to help, but I told her I needed to do this myself.”

“I’m so happy for you. Lila and I will take a ride down and see them on Monday. Now. Any news on my baby? It’s been three weeks.”

Clarke’s face fell. “No. I’m so sorry. But we keep looking. I’m not giving up. When I get back home today, I’m gonna call all the shelters again.”

“Maybe we should offer a reward,” Lexa suggested.

Clarke nodded. “It might be time. Let me know how much and we’ll make a flyer and plaster it everywhere.”

After finishing breakfast, Clarke helped Margaret clear away the plates. She tried to shoo her back to her seat, but Clarke would have none of it. “I’m helping you Margaret. It’s the least I can do to show my appreciation for a wonderful breakfast.”

Lexa swore Margaret blushed.

While Clarke was in the kitchen, Catherine leaned toward Lexa. “Did you get the tickets for Marcus’s art show?” 

“I did. I was going to surprise her.”

Catherine winked. “Good idea. She’s going to be so excited.”

Clarke wandered back in from the kitchen. “Who’s gonna be excited?”

With an airy wave of her hand, Catherine said, “Nothing dear. Just family talk. Now, you come with me. I want to show you our collection.”

She tucked Clarke’s arm into the crook of hers and they wandered off.

Lexa watched with a quirked eyebrow. “I don’t trust those two together.”

Lila giggled. “I’m sure they’re just talking art, dear.”

“Sure they are.”

Catherine and Clarke chatted while walking the hallways admiring the artwork that hung on the walls. 

“I admire your pluck,” Catherine said. “You’re pursuing your dream.”

“I feel pretty good right now. Is it bad to say I’m proud of myself?”

“No! You should be proud.” She patted Clarke’s hand.

“So, how did you meet your husband?”

“Well, the Woods family was very big into shipping. Thomas, my husband, started working at the family business when he was eighteen. His first job was unloading shipping containers down at the docks. My father worked for Woods Enterprises, and he took young Thomas under his wing. I happened to be down at the docks one day with my aunt, we were visiting my father, and Thomas was with him at the time, and I caught his eye. I guess you could say it was love at first sight for both of us.”

“Wow. That’s so romantic. It’s like a Hollywood movie.”

“It was exactly like a Hollywood movie, complete with the disapproving wealthy family. You see, I came from very humble beginnings. We didn’t have much in the way of money or belongings. When Thomas and I began seeing each other, his father and mother were not happy. They tried to keep us apart.”

“What did you do?”

“We eloped!”

Clarke’s eyes widened and she laughed. “You didn’t.”

“We did. Much to their consternation.”

“That is so cool.”

“It was cool. When we came back from New York, they had no choice but to accept me. Over time, they learned to love me.”

Catherine Woods was definitely Clarke’s second favorite Woods. “Well, who wouldn’t love you?” 

Catherine’s eyes twinkled. “Thank you, dear. It was difficult for a few years though. The upper class can be a pain in the ass.”

Clarke laughed. 

“Now my Rexi, she’s not like most. And underneath that tough business exterior is a heart of gold. Just waiting for the right person.”

Clarke almost giggled at the suggestive glance thrown her way. Why if she didn’t know better, she’d think Catherine was playing matchmaker. She thought back to the moment at the store this morning, when Lexa’s arms were around her, and she had shifted closer, and Clarke knew the kiss was coming, just like last weekend on the steps of the Woods House. But this time, Clarke hesitated, whereas last week, it would’ve happened if they weren’t interrupted. Why the hesitation this morning? Fear? Fear of what may happen if they did kiss? Fear she may enjoy it immensely? 

With all this introspection, Clarke realized that poor Catherine had fallen silent. “I’m sorry. I zoned out a bit.”

“No worries my dear. Here we are, back where we started.”

* * *

When Lexa dropped Clarke off at the store later, she asked, “You don’t have plans next Friday night, do you?”

Clarke shook her head. “No, why?”

“Pencil me in.”

Clarke gave an exaggerated wink, à la Gus. “How about I use a pen?”

Lexa smiled. “Deal.”

“Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“A surprise? Holy shit. I think my ruining may be complete.”

“Oh no. I still have room for more ruin.”

Clarke giggled. “Okay. How do I know what to wear?”

“I’ll let you know when it gets closer.”

“Hm. So mysterious. I love it.”

* * *

On Tuesday afternoon Clarke found herself at Schuylkill River Park once again having lunch with Lexa. “I can’t wait for Friday. Where are we going again?”

Lexa narrowed her eyes. “Nice try.”

Clarke laughed. “Oh c’mon! Tell me where we’re going.”

“It’s a surprise.”

“You better tell me what I’m wearing in case I have to buy something.”

“Do you have a cocktail dress?”

Clarke’s eyes widened. “A dress? Hm. A formal affair. Yes, I’m sure I can dig up a dress.” Clarke’s formal wear was limited, but that’s what best friends were for. If she didn’t have something suitable, O and Raven could come up with something.

Lexa brought a blanket this time. Clarke stretched out on her back and put her hands behind her head. “Let’s see. What mysterious event am I going to? A fancy dinner? The opera?”

“I guess you’ll just have to wait.”

With a playful growl, Clarke sat up. “Ahh! I’m dying to know!” She blew out a breath and gazed at the cloudless sky. “What a beautiful day.” Clarke looked down at her naked toes and wiggled them. “I just had a sudden urge to stick my toes in the ocean.”

“Well. Then let’s go to the ocean.”

Clarke searched Lexa’s face. “Really?”

“I’m serious. Let’s go to the beach.”

“Right now?”

“Yes. Right now.”

“I thought you had to work on that proposal. Brooks Brothers or something.”

Lexa laughed. “The Brookman proposal. Yes. But it can wait.”

“You, Lexa Woods, Philadelphia Magazine’s Executive of the Year, is suggesting playing hooky from work. I don’t believe it.”

With much flair, Lexa pulled out her phone and punched a number in. 

It was on speaker, and Gus’s perky voice answered. “Yes, boss?”

“Gus, clear my schedule for the rest of the day.”

He gave a hearty fake laugh. “Yeah, right.”

“I’m serious. Clarke and I are going to the beach.”

Clarke leaned toward the phone. “Hi Gus.”

“Clarke? Is she serious?”

“As a heart attack.”

“I don’t believe it.”

“That’s what I said.”

“Hm. Well, okay then. Boss, consider your schedule cleared. You two behave now.”

“Are you winking?” Clarke asked. “I feel like that was said with a wink.”

He giggled. “It was.”

“I’m winking back. Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of your boss. She’ll be back at work bright and early tomorrow.”

They packed up the impromptu picnic and climbed into Lexa’s car. They decided on Ocean City, since that’s the beach town Clarke always went to when she was younger. On the drive, they chatted about their childhoods and growing up in their respective neighborhoods. Clarke felt bad for Lexa because it sounded like her childhood was lonely.

“It wasn’t lonely. I had friends.”

“You went to work for your dad when you were six.”

Lexa gave her an affectionate slap on the thigh. “I wasn’t six. I was ten.”

“Oh, right ten. Cause that’s a big difference.”

They bantered back and forth for an hour, and Clarke couldn’t remember being this happy before. When the conversation lulled, it never felt awkward, each content with the silence, but then one of them would make a silly observation and a whole new topic was explored.

Lexa’s hand rested on the console between them and Clarke yearned to hold it. 

Ugh. She had no clue what to do with all these...feelings swirling inside. She was bursting with a need to touch Lexa. She snuck in a few physical feels when the opportunity presented itself. A playful slap on the hand. A soft shove on the shoulder. 

When they arrived at the beach, Lexa grabbed the blanket and they strolled up the ramp to the boardwalk. It wasn’t crowded because it was mid-week and still considered early spring at the Jersey shore. A few shops along the boards were open, but for the most part, they had the place to themselves.

Seeking one of those elusive touches, Clarke grabbed Lexa’s hand and tugged her down the steps to the beach. When they hit the sand, she bent over and removed her shoes. “Off with them, Woods.”

“You sure like to tell me to take things off. Bossy pants.” 

This was said with a brow wiggle and Clarke giggled, because she did like bossing Lexa around.

The beach, like the boardwalk, was deserted. The breeze from the ocean was chilly, but the sand was warm between their toes. Lexa spread the blanket out and they both stretched out, pointing their faces toward the afternoon sun. 

After some quiet introspection, Clarke yanked Lexa to her feet and tugged her along to the ocean. “C’mon Woods, time to stick those toes in the ocean.”

“I’m beginning to think you have an unhealthy obsession with toes.”

When they made it down the water’s edge and the water trickled over their bare feet, Clarke let loose with a comical scream. “Whoa! That’s cold.”

Lexa flinched at the chill and tried to head back to shore, but Clarke continued to hold her hand. “No, no. Don’t be a wimp, Woods. Roll up your pants.” She bent over and rolled up her own, and Lexa followed suit.

The rolling waves washed over their ankles and Lexa moaned. “My feet are going numb.”

“We need to toughen you up.”

“It’s cold!”

“It’s not that cold. It’s refreshing. If I had my suit on, I’d go for a swim.”

“There’s no way you’d get all the way in. It’s freezing.”

“I guess I’m a lot tougher than you.” Clarke made a play of kicking some foamy water in Lexa’s direction.

A devilish glint shone in those emerald eyes. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

“Oh yeah? What are you gonna do about it?” She kicked again, spraying Lexa’s shins.

Lexa cocked a brow, then sent a large spray of water in the air, soaking Clarke’s pants.

Clarke howled with laughter. “Game on!” she shouted.

They raced around the edge of the water kicking and splashing at each other. At one point, Lexa picked Clarke up from behind and headed further out in the water. “How about I dump you out here?”

“I swear I’ll take you down with me.”

After five minutes of watery roughhousing, a huffing and puffing Lexa held up a hand. “Okay. I give up. You are much tougher than I. And apparently in better shape.”

“Well, I work out.” Clarke laughed to herself at the in-house joke, wishing Raven was there to hear it. “I’m kidding. I don’t work out.”

Both dragged their soaked bodies back to the blanket and collapsed. 

As the cool air danced along their bodies, Clarke shivered. “Now I’m cold.”

“I think I have another blanket back in the car.”

“Okay. Maybe we can find some place to grab a bite to eat.”

* * *

After grabbing a quick bite, they were snuggled in Lexa’s car, driving home, heated seats on high. Lexa kept peeking at Clarke whenever she could tear her eyes away from the road. She tried to concentrate on what Clarke was saying, but all Lexa could think about was how gorgeous she looked. 

Her eyes were a sparkling sky-blue. Her face was kissed with sunshine. And her hair. God her hair. So tousled from the salt air. It was a mass of riotous curls, and Lexa wondered if that’s how it would look after a night of making love. 

Since she’d met Clarke and had become so infatuated, she kept waiting for a shoe to drop, some deal-breaking flaw to reveal itself. Because, damn it, she seemed so perfect. Last night was spent fantasizing about Clarke naked, writhing in pleasure and moaning Lexa’s name.

She’d chided herself. _You thought Costia was perfect too! So be careful and don’t lose your heart. Protect yourself._

When they finally arrived at the store, Clarke ordered her inside, because she needed to pick out her kitten. Evidently, while Lexa was preoccupied with mentally removing Clarke’s clothes on the drive home, she somehow agreed to adopt one of the kittens.

“Which one?” Clarke asked.

Lexa inspected them. Her eyes kept landing on the orange one with the white chin. “That one.”

“Okay. Just one?”

“Now you want me to take two?”

“Well, what if he gets lonely?”

Lexa glanced at Clarke, and her eyes did what they’d been doing all day, dipped down to Clarke’s lips. She quickly righted them. “Ah. Hm. I guess you’re right.” She cleared her throat and looked over the pack of kittens again. “I’m not sure. Which one do you think?”

Clarke leaned down and pointed to a gray and white one. “How about him? Or maybe it’s a her? I have no clue.” She smiled up at Lexa.

That smile sent tingles along Lexa’s nerve endings. “Done. I’ll take those two please.”

Clarke stood. “You’re easy, Woods.”

Lexa’s sassy retort died in her throat. It was time to make a quick exit. Clarke’s bed looked too inviting, and Clarke herself was too alluring. “It’s late. I guess I better head out.”

At the front door, Lexa turned to say goodbye, and Clarke threw her arms around her. Lexa buried her nose in Clarke’s hair. It smelled like salt air, and it was intoxicating. With much reluctance, she released Clarke, but not before placing a soft kiss on her cheek. With that she stepped away and headed out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think the big "first kiss" will be in the next chapter. I know you've all been waiting breathlessly for it. But, you know I dig a slow burn! There's not too much left to the story, maybe 3-4 chapters after this one. I don't really have anything else to share. Our upcoming Nov. election is stressing me the fuck out and I'm having trouble finding anything funny in the world. Except for the Geico commercial with the Aunt infestation. "Aunt Joanie is here!" Makes me giggle every single time. Sometimes I just shout that out to the wife. "Aunt Joanie is here!" And then we both giggle.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Friday! Lots of interesting news today. But enough about that, we've finally got our first clexa kiss, so enjoy. Drop me a line on the tumblr or facebook.  
> Find my Facebook page [here](https://www.facebook.com/lorig.matthews.71).  
> tumblr [here](https://lorig11.tumblr.com/).

Dufus says hello.

Chapter Eleven

“We’re looking for a _hamster_?” Clarke asked.

“Yup. His name is Hamm,” Raven said.

“Do hamsters come when you call their name?”

“Fuck if I know. Maybe they’re smarter than they look.”

“Mmhmm. I doubt it.” Clarke stared out the window, looking at nothing. Her mind was on Friday night. Where was Lexa taking them? What would she wear? What would Lexa be wearing? “Oh, don’t forget we have to hang those reward flyers up tomorrow morning.”

“I know. I can’t believe they’re offering a $25,000 reward. Jesus. I can do lots with that kind of loot.”

“Maybe it’ll encourage someone to come forward. I know Catherine is beside herself with worry.”

“I updated the Lost Pets Facebook page this morning,” Raven said.

“Good. I called all the shelters again too. This whole thing is just so bizarre. It’s like he disappeared into thin air.”

“I know. And he’s not exactly petite. That’s a lot of dog to disappear.”

Clarke nodded in agreement. She desperately wanted to find the dog. She wanted to make both Catherine and Lexa happy.

Raven turned the car into a driveway and parked in front of a large Colonial. “Nice house. Dude’s a doctor by the way. So, ca-ching!”

“Is it _his_ hamster? Cause that’s weird.”

“No. It’s his son’s. The wife is supposed to be home now.”

They rang the bell and a petite woman with a stylish red bob answered. “Oh good. You’re the pet people?”

“Yes, we are, Ma’am,” a business-like Raven answered.

“Come in.” 

A shy, young boy huddled behind her legs. His curly dark hair stuck out in every direction, and a cute pair of wire-rimmed glasses perched on his nose.

Clarke bent down. “And who is this?”

He peeked out from his hiding spot. “I’m Timmy.”

“Timmy. Nice to meet you. Is it your hamster who’s lost?”

He stuck a finger in his mouth and nodded. “Yeah. Hamm. I ggrt ffmm tostry.”

Raven cocked an ear toward Timmy. “I’m sorry. Could we try that minus the finger, buddy?”

He pulled his finger out. “I got his name from _Toy Story_.”

“Oh. I thought it was short for hamster.”

He scrunched up his face. “It is sort of.”

“Huh. Well you’re all sorts of clever, aren’t you?” Raven said. “How old are you?”

“Five.” He showed her all five of his fingers.

Clarke ruffled his hair. “We’re gonna find him for you, don’t you worry.”

He brightened. “Okay.”

Another young woman walked into the foyer. The mother made the introductions. “This is our sitter, Marjory. She’ll be here if you need her. I have to run out for a few hours. But please, feel free to do whatever’s needed to find Hamm.” She rubbed the top of her son’s head. “Timmy is distraught.”

“We’re on the job, Mrs. Donovan,” Raven said.

“Okay, good luck.” She kissed her son goodbye and flew out the door.

Raven put her hands on her knees to get down to Timmy’s level. “Can you show us where Hamm lives?”

He grabbed her hand and led them up the stairs, down the hall and into his playroom. 

Raven and Clarke studied the space. It was a large room, with bookshelves on one wall and a small desk against the other. A tiny child-size white plastic table and two small chairs were in the middle of the room. All kinds of “little boy” things were scattered about, including several large _Toy Story_ action figures. _Toy Story_ posters adorned the walls. An unfinished _Toy Story_ puzzle sat on the floor near the door. A large blanket was rumpled over by the desk with, you guessed it, _Toy Story_ characters printed on it.

“I’m sensing a pattern here,” Raven said. “You got a boner for _Toy Story_ , Tim?”

Clarke slapped at her arm. “He’s five,” she murmured. “Watch your language.”

“Ow.” Raven rubbed her arm.

Tim gave a curt nod. “I like _Toy Story_.”

Clarke smiled sweetly. “You sure do.”

He laughed and ran to put on his Buzz Lightyear helmet. “I was Buzz for Halloween,” he declared, before tearing around the room with his arms flapping, making loud buzzing noises, and giggling like a maniac.

Raven put a hand in the air. “Okay, Tim. Tim? Okay. Take it down a notch, buddy, Raven had too much to drink last night.”

He continued to twirl around and was now screaming at the top of his lungs.

Raven cupped a hand to her mouth. “Ground control to Major Tim! Ground Control to Major Tim!”

He stopped running and took his helmet off, his tiny chest heaving up and down from the exertion. 

“Whew. Thank you.” Raven pointed to a white wooden bench. On top of which was a large two-level cage, with tubes that turned in every direction. “Is that his home?” 

Tim solemnly nodded.

Raven squished herself into one of the small chairs. Her knees almost brushed her chin. “Take a seat, Tim.”

He slid into the opposite chair.

She cleared her throat. “So, Tim. Where were you on the night in question?”

“Huh?”

“I’m trying to establish your whereabouts on the night of Hamm’s disappearance.”

“It was yesterday.”

“Okay. Noted. Where were you yesterday?”

“When?”

“When Hamm disappeared.”

“I dunno.” His big brown eyes appeared larger behind his lenses.

“Were you the last person to see Hamm?”

He shrugged.

Clarke crossed her arms in annoyance. “Are you interrogating him—”

Raven held up a hand to silence her. “Tell me, Tim. Did you have an insurance policy out on Hamm? Like, would you stand to collect any money if Hamm went missing?”

He giggled. “I dunno.”

“Was there anybody suspicious wandering around the playroom?”

“Huh?”

“You do realize he’s five,” Clarke said. 

She was met by Raven’s other hand.

“Tim. What we’re trying to do is find out how Hamm got out of his cage.”

“I left the door open.” 

He said it with such candor it made Clarke laugh. “Case closed, Perry Mason.”

Raven huffed. “I guess that’s all we need to know at this time. Well, we’ll take a look around and let you know if we see him.”

He nodded and made no move to leave.

Raven shrugged. “Okay. I guess you can watch. Clarke, you take that side of the room, and I’ll look over here. He couldn’t have gotten far.”

The gals fanned out and canvassed the room. They got on their hands and knees and looked over things; they looked under things. They opened drawers, cabinets, and searched the closet. After half an hour of scouring the entire room, they were no closer to finding Hamm. Timmy had lost interest twenty-nine minutes ago.

Clarke collapsed on the floor and scowled. “This hamster could be anywhere in the house.” 

Raven cocked an ear. “Wait. Did you hear that?”

“No.”

“Listen, over here.” She walked over to the wall and put her ear against it. “Holy shit. Something’s in the wall.”

Clarke joined her and listened. There was definitely scratching. 

“It’s down here.” Raven got back down on her knees. The faint scraping sound happened again. “Shit. Is he in the wall?”

Timmy magically reappeared. “My friend Matthew’s hamster escaped and was in the wall.”

“How’d they get him out?” Raven asked.

“They cut a hole in the wall.”

Raven looked to Clarke, who shook her head. “No way. We are not putting a hole in this wall.”

“Mrs. Donovan said to do whatever we had to.”

“I don’t think she meant tearing down her house.”

“It’s a small hole, Clarke. Don’t exaggerate.”

“Maybe you should call her and ask first.”

“Okay.” Raven punched the number into her phone, and it went right to voicemail. “No answer.”

They thought about what to do for a few seconds.

“Maybe we should ask the sitter?” Clarke suggested.

“No! You know the saying, too many cooks…blah blah blah.” Raven placed her hands on Timmy’s shoulders. “Tim, buddy, do you give us permission to cut a small hole in the wall to get Hamm out?”

He nodded and grinned. 

“All right. We need some type of handsaw. Where does your dad keep his tools?”

Off they went in search of tools. Upon returning, Raven took out a blank sheet of paper from the desk and sat down at the tiny table. “Tim, have you ever heard of a Hold Harmless Agreement?”

Clarke’s brows shot up. “Are you kidding? He’s five!”

Raven waved her off. With a burnt sienna-colored crayon, she scratched out a note on the paper, reading aloud while writing, “I, Tim Donovan, hereby give permission for Raven Reyes and Clarke Griffin to cut holes in the wall in order to find my beloved pet hamster, Hamm, so named after a famous _Toy Story_ character.” She handed the crayon to Timmy. “Sign your name, buddy.”

He looked perplexed. 

“Do you know how to sign your name?”

He bit his lip and shook his head.

“Okay. I’ll help you.” She arranged the crayon in his tiny fingers and scrawled _Tim Donovan_.

“Somehow, I don’t think that’s legally binding,” Clarke said.

“It’ll be fine. Now hand me that keyhole saw.”

They both sat down at the spot of the scratching and put on safety glasses.

Raven pushed the tip of the saw into the drywall.

“Careful!” Clarke said. “What if he’s right there and you stab him?”

Raven nodded and took her time, carefully cutting a three-inch square hole into the base of the wall, above the baseboard trim. When the operation was complete, they sat back on their heels. 

“Now what?” Clarke asked.

“What’s his favorite treat, Timmy?”

“He likes carrots.”

“Go get some. We’ll lure him out.”

Timmy ran from the room and was back in a flash, his tiny hand clutching a bag of baby carrots.

“Good boy.” Raven took a carrot and broke it into smaller pieces. She placed some around the hole and they listened.

Nothing.

“Here!” Timmy yelled. Pointing to a spot about five feet away. “He’s down here!”

Sure enough, the scratching had moved.

“How did he get down there?” Clarke asked.

“Agile little bugger.” Raven brought her saw down to the spot. “Look out.”

“Wait! You can’t cut another hole in the wall,” Clarke said.

“Watch me.”

“I don’t think you should.”

“Relax. Tim gave us permission, and promised to not hold us harmless, right Tim?”

His big, brown eyes blew wide, and he clenched his bottom lip between his teeth. He nodded.

With painstaking skill, Raven sliced out another three-inch square.

Forty-five minutes later, Raven, Clarke and Tim sat with their backs against the wall, sipping juice boxes and munching on Teddy Grahams. All still wore safety glasses. Tim’s were a bit big for his tiny face, so Raven had affixed a rubber band to the back. A dazzling array of holes littered the walls. Some were near the baseboard, some were in the middle, one was in the ceiling, because, according to Raven, ‘what if that mother fucker can fly?’ Timmy had taken a bathroom break, so she’d felt comfortable dropping the F bomb at that particular time.

Raven tapped out a message on her phone.

“Who you texting?” Clarke asked.

“Octavia. We need back up.”

Twenty minutes later, the doorbell rang, and Timmy ran downstairs to answer it. When he came back, he had Octavia in tow.

O gazed around the room. “Holy, sh..shoot. What the heck did you do?”

“Hey Tim, why don’t you go watch TV while we figure this out, okay buddy?”

“Okay.”

When they were left alone, O put down the shopping bag in her hand.

“You got it?”

“Yep.” She reached into the bag and brought out a small box with holes.

“What is that?” Clarke asked.

“Insurance.” Raven took the box from Octavia and carefully opened it. 

Clarke peeked inside and gasped. “What are you going to do with that?”

“Look. That kid is devastated over his hamster. Well, guess what? We put _this_ hamster in the cage and, viola! Hamm!”

Clarke’s mouth hung open in disbelief and O asked, “How do you know it looks like Hamm?”

“Don’t all hamsters look alike?”

“You cannot put that animal in Hamm’s cage. It’s not right!” Clarke insisted.

Suddenly O’s brows disappeared into her hairline. “Whoa.” She pointed across the room. And there, sitting like a furry angel, was Hamm, busily chewing on a carrot, jaws moving back and forth, whiskers wiggling with each bite, pink nose moving in time with his tiny mouth.

“Where the fuck did he come from?” Clarke asked.

“Okay, nobody move,” Raven whispered.

“How are we gonna catch him?” Clarke asked in a hushed tone.

“We’ll have to move surreptitiously,” Raven said.

“That’s a big word,” O whispered back.

“Word of the day, bitches.”

Quietly, Raven began directing the troops. “Clarke you move over by the desk in case he runs that way. O, you go to the other side. I’ll crawl over and throw this blanket on him.” She picked up Timmy’s oversized snuggle blanket. 

“Are you sure this’ll work?” Clarke asked.

“Positive.”

“That blanket is huge,” O said. “He might suffocate.”

Raven placed her finger to her lips. “Ssshh.”

* * *

“I think that was worth more than fifty bucks.” O adjusted the sling on her arm.

“Hey, we made a kid happy today. That’s all that counts,” Raven said. “The money was a bonus.”

“Mrs. Donovan seemed…a tad upset,” O said.

“You think?” Raven held an ice bag against Clarke’s face. “I didn’t get that impression.”

“Really?” O asked. “When she walked into the room and shrieked, you thought it was a shriek of approval?”

“I dunno. Maybe.”

“Or when she said she’d never hire you again, and she’d have to get the whole room redone, you thought she was happy?”

She shrugged. “I think it’s open to interpretation. What do you think Clarke?”

Clarke stared out the front window, not answering.

“Cat got your tongue?”

Finally, she responded. “I’m gonna have a black eye.”

“Well, nobody told you to fall head first into the Buzz Lightyear action figure.”

Clarke let loose with some patented dagger eyes. “You pushed me down.”

“I was trying to grab Hamm, and I got tangled up in the blanket.” 

Clarke huffed.

“I told you that blanket was too big,” O pointed out.

Raven took the ice away from Clarke’s eye and placed it against her own cheek. Today she had joined the triage unit. “Look at the bright side? You have a new pet.”

They all turned toward the cage sitting on the desk. And they weren’t the only ones looking. Lucy had taken a break from mothering and set up shop, prowling around the cage and pawing at the golden-brown hamster within. 

“I think they’re besties now,” Raven said. 

O sneered. “I think she wants to eat him.”

“Hm. Maybe. What are you gonna name it, Clarke?” 

“Lucy’s Lunch.”

Raven shook her head. “That’s a little morbid.” 

O held up a finger. “What about Honey? She looks golden, like honey.”

“How do you know it’s a she?” Clarke asked.

Raven grimaced. “Yeah. Clarke struggles with sexing animals.”

“Shut up.”

O’s lip twisted in thought. “I dunno. Honey can be for both, don’t you think?”

“I guess. If it’s a drag queen hamster.”

Clarke probed the small lump next to her eye. “I’m going to a fucking formal event Friday. With a goddamn black eye.”

“It’ll be gone by then,” O said.

“So, you have no clue where you’re going?” Raven asked.

“Nope. It’s a surprise.”

Raven nodded. “And she kissed you on the cheek yesterday?”

“Yeah.”

Raven nodded again. “Well, it’s a good thing you’re not dating.” 

Clarke sighed. “I have no clue what’s going on between us.”

Raven stared back.

“What?”

“You’re fucking dating!”

“We are not!”

“Are to.”

Clarke looked to O for back up. None was forthcoming. “It really sounds like you’re sorta dating.”

Clarke sat back, her mouth slightly open in disbelief. “Really?”

Both besties nodded.

“Huh.”

An unexpected shot of adrenaline cruised through her veins. Wasn’t this what she’d been secretly hoping for? A chance at something...more? More than what they had now? Suddenly, the thought of dating Lexa Woods was exhilarating. It _was_ what she wanted. What she’d been dreaming of. 

Friday couldn’t come soon enough.

* * *

Clarke stood in front of the mirror, twisting this way and that. She’d forgotten all about the black, cap-sleeved dress she’d bought last year. It clung to her curves, and the sweetheart neckline showed off a good amount of cleavage. The open back was a sexy bonus. Would Lexa like it? 

She walked out to the front of the store and twirled. “What do you guys think?”

O nodded. “Wow! You look beautiful.”

Raven gave a loud wolf whistle. “You look sexy as hell, girl. Prepare to get laid!”

Clarke placed her hands on her hips. “Stop it. I doubt that’ll happen. In fact, she probably isn’t even considering this a date.”

“Ya. Sure.”

Clarke touched the hamster bruise. A touch of makeup hopefully hid it. “Thank God this lump went down. Can you notice it?”

“Nope. You’d never know you had an intimate encounter with Buzz Lightyear,” O said.

“So, Clarke,” Raven said. “You know what to do when the clothes come off?”

Clarke glared. “Will you stop.” She smoothed out the hem of her dress. Did she know what to do? Was she ready? A rush of pleasure made her feel flush. The thought of Lexa undressing her, touching her. God help her. She so was ready.

“Want some pointers?”

“No, I don’t want any pointers. If something happens, and that’s a big if, then...I don’t know...I’ll just go with it. I’m sure I’ll figure it out.”

“Atta girl! We expect a full report in the morning.”

* * *

Lexa checked her watch. Good. She had plenty of time to get ready. Nothing was more annoying than rushing. She affixed a thin gold chain with a diamond pendant around her neck. For tonight, she chose a belted, mock-neck sheath dress. The deep plum color was one of her favorites. She reached for a jacket, then thought better of it. It was a warm night, having bare arms shouldn’t be a problem. After slipping on her heels, she took one last look, nodded, then headed out the door.

Henry parked in front of the store and Lexa went to the door. It was open so she walked in. “Knock knock.”

“Here I come!”

Clarke came bustling into the room, and Lexa quivered as a hot jolt of desire settled low in her belly. She looked lovely, beautiful, and oh so sexy. Lexa had half a mind to grab her hand and drag her back to the bed and make her moan with pleasure. “You look beautiful.”

Clarke smiled. “Really? Thanks. I bought this dress for a wedding last year. I hope it’s okay. Since I still don’t know where we’re going.” 

“You’ll know soon enough.”

Clarke’s eyelashes fluttered. “You look...fantastic.”

Clarke and her shyness. It squeezed Lexa’s heart. In a good way. “Thank you.” She spotted a very slight discoloration near Clarke’s eye. She gently touched the spot. “Let me guess. Another cat encounter?”

Clarke grimaced. “Not this time. Small rodent rescue.” She shifted her head in the direction of her bedroom. “I have a new pet.”

Lexa grinned. “Oh boy. Who you got back there?”

“A hamster. I’ll tell you all about it in the car.”

“I can’t wait. Are you ready?”

Clarke nodded and grabbed her purse. Lexa admired the sway of her hips as she walked out the door. 

“Hi, Henry’” Clarke walked toward the open car door.

“Good evening, Miss Clarke. You look lovely.”

Clarke peeked back at Lexa before answering. “Thank you.”

Lexa bit back a groan as Clarke bent over to climb into the back seat and the dress stretched across her ass. What a torturous night this would be.

On the drive to the art show, they laughed about Hamm and exchanged pleasantries and small talk.

When they arrived at Pentimenti Gallery on North Second Street, Clarke gasped. “Oh my God.”

Her jaw dropped open as she turned to Lexa. “Are we...is this?”

Henry pulled to a stop and opened the back door. They climbed from the car and Clarke froze as she read the neon sign on the front of the building. “This is Marcus Kane’s show.”

A small smile touched Lexa’s lips and she nodded.

“I can’t believe it. This is...I’m speechless.” She flew into Lexa’s arms. When they finished hugging, Clarke put a hand to her mouth. “This is the best surprise ever. I just, I can’t believe you did this.”

Lexa tucked Clarke’s arm into her bent elbow. “Well, you said he was your favorite artist.” She felt Clarke tremble.

“I don’t know how to even thank you for this.”

“I’ll think of something,” Lexa teased, then chuckled at the blush that crept into Clarke’s cheeks.

As soon as they entered the gallery, Catherine and Lila strolled over.

“Here’s my favorite granddaughter. And my texting bestie!” Catherine embraced them.

Clarke wagged a finger. “You knew about this and didn’t tell me?”

Catherine tittered. “I could never ruin Rexi’s surprise. She’s been planning this for a while.”

Clarke looked to Lexa. “A while?”

Lexa shrugged.

Catherine grabbed Clarke’s hand. “Come my dear. You must meet the man of the hour.”

Catherine led them over to where Marcus Kane was holding court. He was dressed in a bright, royal blue suit and his crisp white dress shirt was open at the neck. His hair was long enough to touch his shoulders, and a trimmed goatee gave him a roguish air.

As soon as they approached, Marcus excused himself and rushed over. “Catherine. You look stunning.” He kissed her cheek.

“Thank you, Marcus.”

“And who are these beautiful ladies?”

“You know my Lila. And this is my granddaughter, Lexa Woods.” She placed a hand on Clarke’s shoulder. “And this lovely woman is my new favorite artist, Clarke Griffin.”

Marcus shook everyone’s hand.

“I’m a big fan of your work,” Clarke gushed.

“Are you local to Philadelphia?”

Clarke nodded.

“Ah. Wonderful. I’m in talks to teach a class next year, here at the Pentimenti. If you’re interested, I’ll hold a spot open for you.”

“That would be incredible. Thank you.”

“What are your favorite subjects?”

Lexa’s eyes never left Clarke’s face while she and Marcus discussed what inspired them. Her face radiated with excitement and Lexa found it irresistible. The sexual ache returned to her lower belly. Her mind wandered, imagining a naked Clarke below her, falling apart as waves of pleasure rushed through her, as Lexa coaxed moans of ecstasy from her lips. Clarke was passionate about art, and Lexa had a hunch she’d be just as passionate in the bedroom. In fact, it was more than hunch, it was a stone-cold lock. Lexa would bet the house on it.

When Marcus and Clarke finished their conversation, all four ladies wandered around the gallery, critiquing the various works on display. Wait staff circulated with champagne, wine and appetizers and they sampled everything. Catherine introduced Clarke to all the prominent art connoisseurs and gallery owners, and she charmed them all. 

As much as Lexa wanted to hold onto her heart, it was getting harder by the minute. The more she sipped wine, the more distant Costia’s betrayal became.

After an hour of non-stop socializing, an exhausted Catherine and Lila called it a night. Lexa wasn’t ready for the magical night to end, and Clarke seemed filled with boundless energy, so Lexa sent Gram and Lila on their way, with instructions for Henry to return after dropping them off. 

Seeking some privacy, they wandered outside onto the patio of the gallery. A small cobblestone path twisted through a botanical wonder of plants, flowers, and small trees. They found a quiet corner overlooking one of the side streets and both leaned against the railing, taking in the limited view. By this time, they were both slightly tipsy from the wine and warmth of each other’s gaze. 

“I still can’t believe you did this.”

Lexa tucked an errant wave behind Clarke’s ear. “Believe it.”

Clarke’s lashes lowered. “Well, it’s been a great night.”

She continued talking about Marcus Kane, and his class, and how great it would be to learn from him, but Lexa zoned out and lost track of the conversation. Her body pulsed with passion, and her eyes never left Clarke’s mouth. She was mesmerized by it. The only thing on her mind was how Clarke’s lips would feel pressed to hers, how silky her skin would feel beneath her touch. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was Clarke’s perfume, or the way her cheeks dimpled when she smiled, but Lexa’s self-control slipped away, the iron grip on her emotions loosened, and when Clarke fell silent, Lexa stepped close and cupped her face. 

Her hungry mouth captured Clarke’s lips and began a slow exploration. In the back of her mind, she waited for Clarke to stop her, to push her away, but it didn’t happen. Lexa tried to rein in her thundering heart and shifted backwards to check in with her. 

Their eyes locked on each other, until Clarke’s strayed to Lexa’s lips. With a breathy sigh, Clarke brought her lips back to Lexa’s, and her hand found its way to the small of Lexa’s back, as she urged her closer. When Clarke’s mouth opened, Lexa slipped her tongue in and they both moaned. Their arms wrapped tight around each other and their bodies melded together. The world was theirs and only theirs, everything else forgotten. When they needed to breathe, they broke apart for an instant and went right back to it. Lexa kissed Clarke with a hunger she didn’t know she possessed. Her hands wandered down Clarke’s back and her thumb stroked across the top of her thong. _Oh, good God, a thong._ Lexa almost lost it right then, picturing Clarke in the thong and nothing else.

A group of people stumbled onto the patio, laughing and speaking loudly, and they broke apart. Lexa ran a shaky hand through her hair and leaned on the railing to support her quaking legs. She took a quick peek at Clarke’s profile. Her bottom lip was caught between her teeth and all Lexa wanted was to kiss her again. Kiss her into oblivion. Kiss her until she collapsed into her arms.

When Clarke turned, her eyes were clouded with passion and Lexa’s breath hitched. 

With a glance at the rowdy group who had taken up residence a few feet away, Clarke whispered, “Maybe we should go back inside.”

Lexa nodded. 

They spent the next hour in a daze, each hyper aware of the other. If they found themselves in a group chatting, they stood close together, their shoulders and forearms lightly brushing. They were never more than a few inches apart. If the situation called for it, one would grasp the hand of the other to lead them somewhere, and occasionally their hands stayed clasped.

As the clock neared midnight, Lexa leaned close to Clarke. “Are you ready to go?”

Clarke nodded. “Yeah, it’s late.”

Lexa put a hand on Clarke’s elbow and steered her toward the exit, saying goodbye to people along the way. When they stood outside the entrance, she called Henry. He was there within a minute and they settled into the back seat. 

Clarke pulled out her phone. “I’m gonna send you this picture of you and your Gram.” 

Lexa scooted close, pressing her thigh into Clarke’s. “What a great shot. Did you send it to her?”

Clarke pushed her shoulder into Lexa’s. “What a silly question. Of course, I did.”

Lexa chuckled. “Of course, you did.” She glanced in the other direction, hiding eyes that were surely glazed over with lust. The heat between their touching bodies felt like an inferno. “What other pictures did you take?” 

Clarke began flipping through a variety of pictures, throwing in a funny comment here and there.

Lexa tried to concentrate. She really tried. But all she could think of was their kiss from earlier. And how Clarke’s body pressed against hers, and how Clarke moaned when things escalated. 

Clarke sensed her inattention and put the phone down. 

Nobody knew who made the first move, but suddenly their lips brushed together, softly at first, and then the kiss turned feverish. Their tongues entwined and explored. Lexa’s hand slid along Clarke’s thigh, and ventured past the hem of her dress. Knuckles brushed the panel of Clarke’s thong, and she gasped at the wetness found there. It took every ounce of self-control Lexa had not to slip a finger inside that panel and touch Clarke’s hot core.

By this time, the car had parked, and they broke apart. They were in front of the store.

Clarke nibbled on her bottom lip as she looked at the storefront. She seemed to struggle with a course of action. At one point, her forehead rested against the window. After a few seconds, she turned to Lexa. “Can we go back to your place?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter. Can you say booty call?


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The moment you've been waiting for is here. Sex! But before you read on, maybe you should pre-order #CassiNova, my Clexa goes to Hollywood fan fic. It's due out November 12. Here's the [link](https://www.bellabooks.com/category/bella-author-lori-g-matthews/) if interested. Now remember, I had to change the names to protect the innocent! And a couple of other things were changed, because, Editing!  
> Find my Facebook page [here](https://www.facebook.com/lorig.matthews.71).  
> tumblr [here](https://lorig11.tumblr.com/).

Action shot!

Chapter Twelve

On the drive back to Lexa’s apartment, they stayed close, body’s touching from tips of shoulders to calves. Lexa held Clarke’s hand and her thumb stroked across her palm. Their lips remained apart, and Clarke ached to bring them back together. 

After what seemed like an eternity, the car pulled to a stop at the prestigious Robert Stern Building on Rittenhouse Square.

Henry hopped out and opened the door for them, giving Clarke a hand up from her seat. She stared at the building, eyes wide with awe. “Wow. You live here?”

Lexa joined her on the sidewalk. “I’ve lived here for five years.” She offered her elbow and nodded at Henry. “Thank you, Henry.”

Clarke slipped her arm through Lexa’s. “Thanks, Henry.”

“You’re welcome. Have a good evening, ladies.”

As they entered the building, the security guard called out, “Good evening, Miss Woods.” 

“Evening, Jonathan.”

Clarke giggled as they made their way through the lobby. “I guess we gave Henry a show he won’t soon forget.”

Lexa laughed and Clarke thought it was the most beautiful sound in the world.

As they rode the elevator to the penthouse, the sexual tension was palpable. Neither spoke, and they stood on opposite sides of the car. It was probably the furthest they’d been apart in hours. When the doors opened they strode into the hallway and Clarke slipped her hand into Lexa’s. Upon arriving at her door, Lexa punched in the security code and ushered Clarke into the apartment.

Clarke ambled inside and admired the furnishings and decor. It was a much warmer space than Lexa’s office, with a variety of art hanging on actual colored walls. Walls the color of light toffee trimmed out in bright white baseboards and crown molding. A dark chocolate-colored leather sectional took up most of the living room. But the focal point of the room was the stone fireplace and thick oak mantle. Above the fireplace hung a large flat screen TV. Clarke ran a hand over the couch and it felt soft and inviting. Large potted plants dotted the living room. Ferns and ficus and banana trees. The expansive kitchen was ultra-modern, with stainless steel appliances and concrete countertops. “This is beautiful. Did you decorate it yourself?”

Lexa laughed. “No. You know me and decorating. I hired someone. And Gram supplied the art.”

“I had my suspicions you had somebody else do it,” Clarke said with sass. 

“Your suspicions are confirmed.” Lexa’s eyes remained glued to Clarke as she wandered here and there. “Would you like a drink?” 

“Sure. Whatever you’re having.” Clarke stopped at the sliding doors that led to the balcony. “How big is this place?”

Lexa headed into the kitchen and pulled two tumblers down from the cabinets. “Two bedrooms and two and a half baths.”

“Huh.” Clarke smiled back at her. “I expected bigger.”

Lexa shrugged. “It’s all I need. Are you disappointed?”

Clarke shook her head. “Quite the contrary.” She slipped onto the patio while Lexa poured some Kentucky bourbon over ice. 

Lexa joined Clarke outside and handed her a glass. 

Clarke took a sip and winced. “Whew. That’s strong.”

“Too strong?”

“No. I like it.” She took another sip and closed her eyes as the whiskey scalded the back of her throat. Was this liquid courage for what was to come? She turned her attention to the display of lights dancing in front of her. “You and your views. Do you appreciate this one more than the one at your office?”

“I sit out here whenever I have the chance, actually. So I would say yes.”

Their eyes met and neither looked away, but they didn’t move closer, both playing coy, pretending their passion wasn’t a tinderbox ready to explode.

“Thank you for tonight,” Clarke said. “It was incredible.”

Lexa cocked a brow. “The show or the kisses?”

Heat rushed into Clarke’s cheeks and she bit back a smile while looking off into the distance. “Both,” she whispered. A tight knot of pleasure twisted low in her belly. A sudden image of Lexa slipping the dress from her body almost sent her over the edge. She didn’t need liquid courage. She wanted this more than anything she could remember.

When she sought out Lexa’s eyes, she was met with an intensity that burned into her soul. The hunger was nakedly apparent.

Lexa placed her glass on the table and took Clarke’s and did the same. Wordlessly, she moved forward and captured Clarke’s lips with hers.

Their mouths opened and tongues met immediately. Clarke raked her fingernails down Lexa’s back, then wandered across her ass, then back up to her back. The urgency to feel the silky skin underneath Lexa’s dress was overwhelming. Did she ever want anyone this much? 

The kiss lasted an eternity, and Clarke’s insides quivered with each stroke of Lexa’s tongue against hers. Her hips twisted against Lexa’s, looking for friction to soothe the ache of need between her thighs.

Lexa’s mouth finally left hers, but the torture continued, as those soft lips trailed kisses along Clarke’s throat. A hand slipped underneath the hem of Clarke’s dress and she almost collapsed when it brushed against the panel of her thong again. 

A groan clawed its way up from Clarke’s throat and her body sagged against Lexa’s. “Oh God.”

Lexa pulled away and clutched Clarke’s hand to lead them back inside.

Clarke was in a daze. The only thing on her brain was the imminent satisfaction she’d feel when Lexa finally touched her. Really touched her.

Soon they stood at the foot of Lexa’s bed and Lexa was kissing her again and Clarke’s body screamed with pleasure. Lexa’s hand reached around and lowered the zipper on Clarke’s dress. Before slipping it off her shoulders, she sought Clarke’s approval.

Clarke wanted to scream, _Yes, please, I want you so bad!_ But her voice had abandoned her, so she just nodded. Lexa slowly slid down the dress, first the right side then the left. Fingers trailed up and down her bare arms and she shivered with anticipation. Clarke pushed the rest of the dress past her hips and it pooled around her ankles.

Lexa gasped as her eyes traveled the length of Clarke’s body. With a voice husky and low, she murmured, “You’re so perfect.” Before Clarke had time to blush, Lexa’s lips were back on hers, coaxing from her moans of pleasure, foreign sounds to Clarke, because no past lover had made her react like this.

Clarke shifted back. “I want to see you.” She reached around and undid the clasp at the top of Lexa’s dress, then slid the zipper down. Her fingers shook as she helped Lexa out of her dress.

In a blur, the rest of their clothes hit the ground and they tumbled onto the bed, their bodies pressing fully against each other.

While Lexa kissed her into oblivion, her hand glided across Clarke’s breasts, stopping to tug on engorged nipples, then continued gliding across her belly, coming to rest between Clarke’s thighs, where fingers delved into the wetness of Clarke’s core.

Clarke’s body trembled. Soon she’d have the answer to her question from a couple of weeks ago. _How would it feel to have Lexa make love to her?_

Lexa’s mouth left hers to feast on her breasts, and Clarke’s ragged breaths echoed around the room. Her hips bucked against those fingers, begging for more, and Lexa slipped a finger inside, then two. Clarke wanted to stop time, get lost in this exact moment, with Lexa’s fingers thrusting inside at just the right angle and her mouth teasing, because the pleasure was exquisite and almost too much to bear.

But the moment was fleeting, because the intensity was building to a fever pitch and Clarke knew she was close. When Lexa’s palm pressed against her, she cried out. Lexa increased the pressure and the dam burst. Wave after wave of pure pleasure rolled through her. Her head rolled back and forth as jumbled sounds fell from her lips. Her toes curled and her fingernails scraped across the sheets. It was so good. _So good._

When the sensations finally subsided, her body sagged and she struggled to breathe.

But she barely had time to recover, because Lexa slid further down and gently nudged Clarke’s clit with her lips and tongue, bringing another orgasm hot on the heels of the last. 

After the second one, Clarke felt like she was floating weightless, on a cloud of pure satisfaction.

Lexa nibbled her way back up to Clarke’s lips, and they shared a deep kiss. 

When Lexa pulled away, Clarke kept her eyes squeezed shut. “Fuck. That was incredible.”

Lexa hummed in agreement while tracing a finger along Clarke’s jaw and lips.

When Clarke opened her eyes, emerald eyes stared back. She cupped Lexa’s cheek. “That was...I...I don’t know how to describe it.”

Lexa smiled. “Incredible is good.” She studied Clarke’s face, eyes roaming over every inch. “You’re so beautiful,” she whispered. Her finger continued its soft exploration of Clarke’s face.

Clarke kissed the finger when it passed over her lips.

With a soft moan, Lexa’s mouth pressed against hers and soon they writhed against each other, passions flaring again. 

Clarke pressed Lexa’s back against the mattress and hovered over her, knees on either side of her hips. “I’m kinda new at this.”

Concern clouded Lexa’s eyes. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

With a breathy voice, Clarke said, “Oh, I want to.” She needed to touch and taste every single inch of this woman’s skin. It was a craving that took her breath away. 

For a brief second, she hesitated. Nerves tangled with want. Would she be any good at this? Would she be able to satisfy Lexa?

As she gazed deep into Lexa’s eyes, now darkened with lust, she could see an openness there that was new. Not to say Lexa was always guarded before, but this look was naked and trusting. _Vulnerable_. And it was all Clarke needed to boost her shaky confidence. 

She nipped along Lexa’s jawline, and then her neck, giving special attention to the pulse point that pounded like a jackhammer beneath her lips. She sucked at it, got carried away, and hoped she didn’t leave a mark.

Her journey continued southward. She worked over Lexa’s tight nipples, sucking and licking and blowing on them. She must’ve been doing something right, because Lexa growled and bucked with pleasure. Her hands twisted in Clarke’s hair as she held her head firmly in place.

While Clarke continued her assault on Lexa’s breasts, her hand slid between Lexa’s legs and she moaned at the wetness found there. She was drenched. A fresh gush of moisture seeped between her own legs. This beautiful woman wanted _her_. Clarke was the reason Lexa was so wet, so needy. Clarke was the reason why Lexa panted and pleaded for release. What a heady feeling. Clarke felt like she could conquer the world.

She kissed her way along Lexa’s tight, sexy abs, nipped at her hips and finally settled between her thighs. This was all so new, but instinct took over. Her body knew what to do so her mind went blank. Her tongue dipped between velvety folds, and she stroked and probed. The taste was exquisite and Clarke couldn’t get enough. A tiny voice asked, _would she ever get enough?_

Lexa rasped, “Oh God, Clarke. That feels so good.” 

Soon the sounds falling from Lexa’s lips were unintelligible and increased in volume, so Clarke was _definitely_ doing something right. She’d loved when Lexa’s fingers were inside her, so she did the same. Two slipped in with ease and she slowly thrusted in and out while her tongue continued laving over Lexa’s stiffened clit. 

After a few minutes of sucking, licking and thrusting, rapid, staccato breaths filled the room, and Clarke knew Lexa was close. Her hips pushed hard against Clarke’s probing fingers and Clarke increased the tempo. In and out, in and out, in time with Lexa’s breathy gasps, in rhythm with her hips, and then those hips stilled and Lexa cried out and her walls clenched around Clarke’s fingers and it was the most beautiful feeling in the world. 

She took a peek at Lexa’s face and saw pure rapture, eyes clenched in ecstasy, mouth open, neck muscles taut and straining. Lexa’s moans continued until the pulsing stopped. With a satisfied sigh, her head lolled back on the bed. 

Clarke slowly withdrew her fingers, feeling pretty good about herself. Lexa Woods just totally fell apart for her. Because of her. And Clarke knew she’d never be the same. Because now that she had a taste of this woman, she feared she’d never want anyone else.

With a sigh, she lay her head on Lexa’s belly and her finger drew tiny circles all along Lexa’s forearm. 

Her heart was full. And it was scary, because it all seemed to happen so fast. It wasn’t supposed to happen this fast. It was supposed to happen over time. Over months. Over countless dates, candlelight dinners, walks in the park, and snuggles on the couch. It wasn’t supposed to happen in a month.

But it did.

This was love. She was sure of it. 

She was in love with Lexa Woods.

Impossible, her mind shouted, overruling her heart. And she valiantly tried to talk herself out of it. _It was just the afterglow of great sex. It was just the mind blowing orgasms._

But Clarke knew it wasn’t just that. It was the kindness, the generosity, the surprising vulnerability a few moments ago. It was the incredible sound of Lexa’s laugh, and the adorable uncertainty of sticking her toes in the grass. It was the needy noises she made when she was close to coming. It was all of the above and so much more.

Lexa’s fingers raked through Clarke’s hair. “That was fantastic.”

Clarke picked her head up and smiled. “You’re fantastic.”

Lexa returned the smile. “No. You’re fantastic.” They both chuckled. “I think my ruining might be complete. Now get up here. I’m feeling the need to kiss you again.” 

Clarke was only too happy to oblige, tucking her feelings away for now. Tonight was about sharing their passion and lust. Tomorrow or maybe the next day, deeper feelings would be explored. 

Their mouths locked together, and everything else ceased to exist.

* * *

Clarke’s eyes opened at ten a.m. Strong arms wrapped around her waist and Lexa’s leg was between hers. She smiled, remembering the night they just shared. They’d made love to the early morning hours and finally collapsed from sheer exhaustion. Lexa was a fantastic lover. As good as Clarke imagined she would be. The sex was incredible, and just thinking about it made her hunger for more. But then her belly grumbled from lack of food. Maybe she would cook them breakfast. 

She slowly slipped from Lexa’s embrace and stood. She stared down and half expected her to wake, but Lexa quietly moaned and curled back up. Her long lashes rested on her cheeks and Clarke couldn’t imagine her looking lovelier. She padded naked to the closet and pulled out a blue, button down shirt, then crept from the room. 

She checked out the linen closet in the spare bathroom and found everything she needed. A hot shower was first on her list, before cooking breakfast.

Thirty minutes later, she hummed and moved around the kitchen, still clad only in the button-down shirt, but now smelling fresh as a daisy. Every conceivable cooking gadget was at her disposal. The commercial size Viking stove at first was intimidating, but soon she mastered it. She shredded potatoes and threw them in the frying pan with some peppers and onions. Bacon sizzled in another pan. Toast sat ready in the toaster, and whipped eggs sat in a bowl. She decided on tomato and cheese omelets.

* * *

Lexa groaned and stretched. The clock read eleven. As in a.m. As in, holy shit did she really sleep that late? The bed beside her was cold and she shot upright. _Where was Clarke? Did she leave?_ Her heart stuttered in panic, but then her olfactory senses kicked. The smell of coffee and bacon can do that. Clarke was making breakfast and Lexa’s belly roared its approval. 

With a satisfied sigh, she lay back down in bed. Last night had been fantastic. She found it hard to believe that Clarke had never been with a woman before. She was an eager and apt pupil, and by the late hours had Lexa writhing in ecstasy again and again. As she replayed the evening in her mind, her body thrummed with need. The need to kiss Clarke, to make love to her again. To hear her cries of pleasure, to feel her body respond to Lexa’s touches.

But first, she needed to get the hell up. She hopped from the bed and took a quick shower.

When Lexa made her way to the kitchen, she stopped short and leaned against the wall while her heart flip-flopped inside her chest. 

There was Clarke, head bopping back and forth to the music playing on her phone, hair tousled and messy. The shirt she wore stopped at her waist, leaving nothing to the imagination, and Lexa felt moisture pool between her legs. “Good morning.”

Clarke spun around and a huge smile lit up her face. “There you are, sleepyhead.” She waggled a spatula in her direction. “I thought you said you never slept past five a.m.”

Lexa walked towards her. “Obviously someone wore me out last night.” When she stopped in front of Clarke she put a hand behind Clarke’s neck and brought her lips close. “You know that shirt doesn’t cover much.” 

They kissed, a slow languid good morning kiss. Soon their mouths opened and their arms tightened. Lexa’s hand explored the top of Clarke’s thighs, but Clarke backed away before they could go further. “We have to eat.”

Lexa pouted. “I need to be ruined again.”

With a laugh, Clarke said, “Don’t worry. I’m not done ruining you. But. We need to refuel.” 

“Okay.” Lexa snuck in for another quick kiss. 

“Go. Sit. I’m making omelets.”

Lexa did as she was told, sitting on one of the counter stools. The view was spectacular. She licked her lips as Clarke sashayed back and forth, her ass inviting exploration, her breasts swaying and begging for attention. 

She shifted in her seat and adjusted her lounge pants. This was torturous, looking and not touching. 

Finally, breakfast was ready, and Clarke laid a plate loaded with eggs, potatoes and bacon in front of her. She then took the stool next to Lexa and sat with her own plate. Before digging in, Clarke quirked a brow. “I hope you’re hungry.”

“Oh, I’m hungry all right.” Lexa kissed her and the food was momentarily forgotten. 

Clarke’s rumbling belly distracted them, and Lexa broke off the kiss. “Let’s eat. Then let’s eat again.” She comically wiggled her eyebrows and Clarke laughed.

Soon the only sound was humming as they both wolfed down their breakfast. 

Lexa perfected one-handed eating, because the other was on a mission between Clarke’s thighs. 

Clarke altered between swallowing and moaning. In a hot second the fork was down, legs were spread, and Lexa was on her knees, her mouth replacing her fingers.

* * *

“What time is it?” Clarke asked. She lay with her head on Lexa’s chest, fingers stroking along Lexa’s smooth belly.

The sun still stood tall in the sky. Lexa glanced at the clock. “Almost four.” She kissed the top of Clarke’s head.

“Hmmm. Should we get up?”

“Eventually.”

Clarke picked her head up. “We should probably get some fresh air.”

Lexa sighed. “You’re right. Will you stay with me again tonight?”

Clarke smiled. “I thought you’d never ask.”

“We can stop by your place and you can get some clothes.”

“And I have to check on Aden and the pets. He slept over at Linc’s and Octavia’s last night. Maybe he can hang with them again tonight.”

They pulled apart and jumped into the shower together. It took another half hour for them to come out of the shower.

“Do you wanna do something fun?” Lexa asked.

Clarke’s eyes widened. “What did you have in mind?”

“Do you like hockey?”

“Ice hockey?”

“Yeah. Maybe the Flyers are playing tonight. Woods Enterprises has a luxury box.”

“I’ve never been to a live game. My dad and I used to watch it on TV all the time.”

“So is that a yes?”

“Yes. It’s a yes!” She jumped into Lexa’s arms and kissed her.

Lexa slid her to the ground. “Okay. Let me make a few calls.” 

She left the room and Clarke found some clothes to borrow for the ride to her place. As much as she’d like to be naked all the time in front of Lexa, to invite her to do unspeakable things to her body, other people might be put off. She laughed at the visual.

An hour later they were cozied up in the back of the car, making out like teenagers. Poor Henry got another eyeful. 

When the car parked, Clarke’s mouth dropped open. “Why are we at the airport? I thought you said we were going to the game?”

Henry opened the door and they exited the car. Lexa grabbed her hand. “We are going to the game.” She gave a sly smile.

“Okay. I know you have a lot of money, but can’t we just drive to south Philly?” 

“The game’s in Boston.”

“Huh?” When they stopped walking, Clarke gaped at the sight in front of her. A private plane sat idling on the runway, the steps lowered in an invitation. “Holy shit. We’re flying to Boston?”

Lexa nodded and tugged Clarke along.

“Holy shit. We’re taking this plane?”

Lexa nodded again.

“Holy shit.”

Lexa laughed as they walked up the steps.

Clarke entered the plane and gazed around in wonder. “I’ve never been on a private plane.”

The pilot nodded as they walked past. “Good evening, Miss Woods.”

“Good evening, Mark. Is everything ready?”

“Yes ma’am.”

They walked into the cabin and a pert stewardess with long, dark hair bobbed her head. “Miss Woods, welcome. Dinner will be served as soon as we’re airborne.”

“Thank you, Maggie.” 

Clarke realized her mouth was still hanging open so she closed it. She followed Lexa down the aisle into the seating area. There were a pair of seats against either side, like the kind you find in first class. Behind them was a table with two chairs, and a comfy looking white leather couch was against the wall, facing a flat screen TV that hung across the aisle. 

Lexa pointed toward the back. “There’s a nice size bathroom back there if you need it.” 

Clarke squealed with delight and ran back to check it out. “It’s bigger than my bathroom!” She jogged back. “This is crazy cool.”

Lexa sat in one of the single seats and patted the one next to her. “Sit. We’ll buckle up for takeoff.”

Clarke slid next to her and fastened her seat belt. She wanted to kiss Lexa, but was unsure about PDA in public. She didn’t have to wonder about that for long, because Lexa leaned in and kissed her long and hard, with Maggie moving back and forth in the cabin. So PDA was allowed. Good to know.

The captain announced they were ready, and Maggie took a seat up near the front door, closing the curtain to the main cabin.

Clarke placed her lips next to Lexa’s ear. “I’m glad there’s a curtain.”

Lexa snuck in another quick kiss. “Are you a member of the Mile High Club?”

Clarke giggled and playfully slapped her thigh. “No!”

“Buckle up.”

“For takeoff or for joining the Mile High Club?”

Lexa bit her earlobe. “Both.”

Moisture seeped into Clarke’s panties.

After they reached cruising altitude, they unbuckled and sat at the table for dinner, which consisted of filet mignon, roasted bliss potatoes, asparagus, and a bottle of rich Chardonnay.

Clarke took a sip of wine. “I don’t dine this well at home.”

“The food up here is always wonderful.” She raised her glass to toast, and they tapped them together.

After they cleaned their plates, dessert was served. Clarke’s mouth watered at the Crème brûlée in front of her. “Wow. This looks delicious.” 

Lexa had a plate of beignets and berries, and each shared their dessert with the other.

When they finished eating, Maggie cleared away the plates and left them to their own devices. They had another twenty minutes before landing, so they took full advantage of the remaining time. 

Clarke sat in Lexa’s lap, her shirt unbuttoned and bra pushed aside, as Lexa feasted on her ripe breasts. She bit her lip to keep her moans quiet, but a loud one escaped when Lexa managed to slip a of couple fingers inside her jeans. Soon she was rocking in time with Lexa’s thrusting, and coming hard onto her hand. Her shoulders slumped in exhaustion and she leaned her forehead against Lexa’s. “Oh shit, that was good.”

“Welcome to the Mile High Club, Clarke.”

*** * ***

Clarke stared back at her rapt audience.

Raven’s eyes blinked in awe. “You flew on a private plane to watch a hockey game?” 

“You had sex on a plane?” O asked, eyebrows lost in her hairline.

Clarke nodded. “Yes and yes.”

“That is romantic as shit, Clarke!” O said.

Clarke gave a sheepish shrug. “I know. I think it was the best weekend of my life, to be honest. The sex was...unbelievable.”

“I’ve been telling you to give chicks a try.” 

“You were right, Rae.” She giggled. “Maybe I should’ve tried harder with Chrissy Martin.”

Raven’s dumbstruck expression remained. “Why are you here and not holed up with her?”

“We both decided to take things a little slow.”

“You just had sex a hundred times, I don’t think that’s taking things slow,” Raven stated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I don't have anything funny to share. Hard to have travel stories when there's no traveling. I am enrolled in a writing class, so I can use words more good. The class started a couple weeks ago, once a week for an hour, thru next spring. There's 19 students, all she/they, LGBTQ. Not yet sure if any share my sense of humor. All seem to be more thoughtful and intellectual than myself. We have homework assignments and a discussion board where we talk about our works in progress. This week we posted story summaries and we're supposed to critique each other's summaries and character descriptions. So people posted long critiques, filled with in-depth analysis of themes and character arcs and they go on and on. And I'm like, "That sounds good." One's gal's story was a fantasy, and she was struggling whether to make the "high priest/priestesses" have to be celibate, like catholic priests and nuns. Most decided that celibate would allow for more angst. I was like, "Sister Beatrice from Warrior Nuns was hot."  
> Yeah. I don't think they're ready for me.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only a two or three more chapters left. Thanks for sticking with the story. Some exciting news. My author's copies for # CassiNova, my former Clexa Goes to Hollywood rewrite, came in the mail to me this week! So there's a book out there with my name on it. Wild. Surreal. Release date is still Nov. 12th. Here's the [link](https://www.bellabooks.com/category/bella-author-lori-g-matthews/) if interested. You can pre-order if you want.  
> Find my Facebook page [here](https://www.facebook.com/lorig.matthews.71).  
> If you wanna friend me, drop me a message in messenger letting me know. Still getting a lot of strange folks asking to be friends.  
> tumblr [here](https://lorig11.tumblr.com/).

[](https://imgur.com/qre17DR)

**Chapter 13**

Finn dropped his cigarette butt on the ground and rubbed it out with the toe of his shoe. It was a nasty habit he had kicked a few years ago, but with all the stress of the last few months, it reared its ugly head again. 

Putting a hand in his pocket, he wrapped his fingers around a rolled-up wad of cash, courtesy of Mr. Blake Connelly’s safety deposit box. He was meeting Clarke shortly and would give it to her, since he hadn’t sent a check out yet. He hoped it would assuage her anger a bit. They’d been texting and leaving voicemails for the last couple of weeks, all centering around the same subject, Clarke demanding payment and him apologizing. 

Caesar tugged him over to a bush. He’d brought the big burly dog with him, just to give him some exercise. Actually, they could both use some because he’d been holed up for a few weeks now. His days were filled with work and sitting around the house with his crank of a stepsister. The fresh air felt good in his lungs. 

He quickly scanned the park. So far, he’d been able to avoid Murphy. He skipped his last two payments, and knew he was on borrowed time, but his luck changed for the better a few days ago, because low and behold, Catherine Woods had posted a reward for the dog. $25,000. A flyer had been hung right outside the bank. He’d pulled it down and shoved it into his pocket, planning to claim the reward. He didn’t want to call right away. That might appear suspicious. If he called in a few days, it would look more like happenstance.

No need to fill Ontari in, he would deal with her later. She’d be pissed, but he would explain that her brilliant “breeding” idea would probably not work, because the big paydays were between a select few breeders in the northeast. And they would recognize Caesar immediately.

He headed back towards the parking lot, and as he came off the trail, he stopped short.

“Hey Collins.” 

Finn’s heart stumbled in his chest. He suddenly found it hard to breathe.

Murphy’s henchmen sat on the hood of his car. 

He made a desperate attempt to appear casual. “What do you want?”

The tall one, Jasper if he remembered correctly, slid to the ground. “You missed your payments. Murph is upset.”

The other one, Monty, slid off the hood and they both walked toward him.

“I know I’m late, but in a couple of days I should have some cash.”

“Not good enough. He wants to see you and have a chat.”

Finn swallowed the lump of fear lodged in his throat. “Why isn’t he here?”

“He had to take Princess to the vet,” Monty said.

Jasper glared at Monty. “He had other business.”

Monty blanched. “Yeah. Other business.”

“So he sent us to get you.” Jasper quickly flashed a gun that was jammed into the waistband of his jeans. “Get in the car.” He pointed at a faded blue sedan.

Finn’s heart rate accelerated. _They can’t get money from a dead man. They can’t get money from dead man_. _Right?_ “What about the dog?”

“We’ll take him too. Get in.”

“Wait a sec,” Monty said. “I need to put a blanket down or something if that dog is getting in the car.”

“Why?” Jasper asked.

“It’s my mom’s car. She’ll freak if it gets dirty.”

“Do you have a blanket?”

“I dunno. Let me check the trunk.”

Clarke had arrived at the park before Finn so she could get her dog walks in. All five dogs attached to her harness were tired now, after a nice long half hour walk. She had Bruno, the Great Dane, two shelties, and three smaller mutts. She stepped into the parking lot and saw Finn talking to...to... _those damn idiots who trashed his place!_ Her eyes landed on the dog at his feet and her mouth dropped open. She quickly took out her phone and brought up the picture of Caesar. Anger shot through her veins. Was it? Holy shit! It was him! It was Caesar! He stole the damn dog!

“Finn!”

He spun around. “Clarke.”

She strode over, all dogs in tow, glaring. “What the hell is going on? Where’d you get that dog?”

Jasper and Monty gaped at the array of canines attached to Clarke. 

“Shit. Are they all yours?” Jasper asked.

Clarke gave him a hard poke in the chest. “None of your damn business.” 

“Ow.” He rubbed his chest. 

She poked Monty also. “And don’t think I don’t recognize you two assholes.” She alternated between poking Monty and Jasper. “And don’t think…” _Poke._ “...I forgot about…” _Poke, poke._ “...what you did to my paintings!” Their faces twisted in pain and embarrassment, and they retreated a few steps to stop her onslaught.

Finn touched her arm. “Clarke, calm down.”

“Don’t…” _Poke_. “...tell me to calm down.”

All three rubbed at the bruises on their chests. Bruno had set up shop in front of Clarke, giving her a menacing sidekick. Giving her _actual_ muscle.

“Okay. Let’s all take a breath,” Finn said. “Guys, can I just have a minute? I need to talk to her”

Jasper snatched the leash away from him. “Leave the dog.”

Finn laid a hand on Clarke’s elbow and she jerked it away. “Don’t touch me!”

He led her across the parking lot, so they were out of earshot. “Calm down. Let me explain.”

She needed to get a grip on herself, because she wanted to pop him in the mouth. She settled for another hard poke. “You stole that dog.”

Finn’s mouth opened in a silent ouch. “Just listen to me.”

“I want that dog back right now.”

“How do you even know this dog?”

“Because I’ve been looking for him for a month. So I’m taking him.” 

“I can’t let you do that.”

“Why not?”

He turned to check out the situation back at the cars. 

Monty and Jasper craned their necks to see what was happening. 

He moved further away. “Over here.” When he felt they had enough privacy, he said, “I need the dog for a couple more days.”

“Too bad, I’m taking him.”

“You can’t!”

“Why?”

“Because they’ll kill me if I don’t come up with some cash soon. I need the reward money for the dog.”

“Pfft. Those two asshats don’t have the guts to kill you.”

“It’s not them I’m worried about. They work for Murphy, and Murphy works for his sister, Nia Black.”

“Who’s that?”

“She’s the biggest drug dealer in the city. And she has no problem killing people.”

Clarke could see the fear in his eyes but was too pissed to care. “Tough shit. I’m taking the dog. And you don’t deserve that reward money. You’re the one who stole him!” She started to walk away but he grabbed her arm.

“I didn’t steal him. Ontari stole him. It was her idea, not mine.”

She slapped his hand away. “I told you not to touch me.”

“Please Clarke. I’m begging you. Please. I just need two days. That’s all I’m asking for. In two days, I’ll return the dog. You have my word.”

“Your word? Your word? Cause that’s so good? I’m still waiting for you to start paying me back.”

Finn held up a hand. “Wait. That’s why I asked you to meet me here. I do have some cash for you.” He dug the wad of bills out of his pocket and shoved it into her hand. “Five hundred dollars. After I get the reward, I can give you some more. After I give Nia some, of course.”

Clarke counted the bills. He wasn’t lying. Five hundred exactly. “I don’t want any of that reward money. It’s tainted. But I still want the dog.”

“Clarke.” He pressed his hands together in a prayer-like fashion, his eyes screaming for understanding. “I don’t wanna die. Please. Two days. I’m staying at Ontari’s place on Daly Street. If I don’t make good on my promise, you can call the cops, or whatever you wanna do. You can come to the bank and tell everyone what a shit I am. I just need two days.”

She hesitated. Could she give him two days? She glanced back across the parking lot. The dog looked to be in good health. But God, how could she lie to Lexa? She couldn’t face her and pretend this all didn’t happen. She might have to stay away from her. And the thought of that caused instant pain. She missed her so much and was dying to be with her again. And it’d only been one day!

Finn looked desolate. The strain from the last month had definitely taken a toll. He had dark circles under his eyes, and his face was ashen. Would she want his possible demise hanging over her head? Against her better judgement, she relented. “Two days. But you need to pay back that reward money.”

“I will.” His body sagged in relief. “Thank you. I’ll text you Wednesday after I return him.”

“Oh, don’t you worry, I’ll know if the dog gets returned.”

“I’ll still text you.”

Clarke adjusted her harnesses. “What are you gonna do now?”

“I have to go with them and meet Murphy and explain everything.”

“Okay. What about the dog? They better not hurt him.”

“They won’t. He’s worth too much. I gotta go. I promise I’ll be in touch Wednesday.” He nodded goodbye and walked back to Jasper and Monty. 

Clarke put the dogs into her car and started the engine. Bruno sat up front, and the smaller dogs sat in the back seat. “What do you say we do a little detective work, guys?”

When the men pulled out of the parking lot, Clarke followed. She kept a discreet distance feeling fairly confident they wouldn’t see her. Mutt and Jeff didn’t seem like the brightest candles in the church.

Soon they turned onto Delaware Avenue and pulled into one of the large shipping terminals by the river. Clarke stayed on the street and parked. The men walked into the building, dog in tow. Clarke snapped multiple photos with her phone. She already wrote down the license plate and car model. She had plenty of information if Finn didn’t keep his word.

* * *

Finn was blanketed by Monty and Jasper as they walked into the building. He was surprised how vast it was inside. Shipping containers were piled on top of each other. Endless rows of them with identifying markers stenciled on the sides. It took a few minutes to make it to the back of the building. Finally, they ushered him through a door and into a large office space. They were no longer alone. A woman sat behind a desk, and at least ten other men were busy at desks or milling about. Finn wouldn’t want to meet any of them in a dark alley.

“Collins.” Murphy sat on the desk, looking smug. “Have you ever met my sister, Nia?”

Jasper shoved him forward.

The woman was older than Murphy, by at least ten years. Her dark hair was severely pulled away from her face in a tight ponytail at the base of her neck. Her cruel black eyes bored into him. She cut right to the chase. “Where’s the money?”

Finn nervously fussed with the leash in his hand. His heart felt like it was going to burst out of his chest, he was so scared. “I’m a...I’m gonna get the money. I swear.”

“You missed your payment. My little brother was kind enough to put you on a payment plan.” She nodded and two goons ambled up behind him and shoved him into a chair. She stood and walked around the front of her desk, and with folded arms, leaned against it. “What should I do with you?” 

Finn’s eyes darted about the room. Sweat trickled down his back. “I can get you $25,000 on Wednesday.”

She pursed her lips. “How you gonna do that?”

Finn nodded at the dog. “There’s a reward for this dog.” He reached into his pocket and froze.A gun was cocked to his head. He raised his hands. “I just wanna show you something.”

Murphy nodded and the goon lowered his gun. He slid off the desk, reached into Finn’s pocket and drew out the flyer. Opening it, he read it then showed it to his sister. 

Her lips set in a hard line as she read the paper. “What’s to stop me from taking this dog and claiming the money myself? I wouldn’t even need you.”

Finn had to think quickly. “Ah, there may be publicity when the dog returns. I don’t think you would want that. For anybody in your...um, organization.”

Her eyes narrowed in thought.

“Let him claim it, sis. I know where he’s holed up. We’ll make sure we get it from him.” 

She nodded. “Okay.” She folded up the flyer and tossed it into his lap. “But you still owe me a lot more. Your sister tells me you work at a bank. That you have access to safety deposit boxes.”

“I do.”

“She said there’s diamonds in some of them.”

“Yes.”

“This is what we’re gonna do, Mr. Collins.” She rested her hands on the arms of his chair and shifted so close Finn could see every wrinkle on her face. Her mouth was inches from his. “You’re gonna steal some of those jewels. And when I’ve made my money back, with interest, we’ll consider your debt paid.”

Clarke kept staring at the door of the building and checking the time. She’d been sitting there for half an hour. She ran a nervous hand through her hair. What if they killed him already? 

Before she could figure out the ramifications of that scenario, all three men and the dog emerged from the building and got back into the car. Clarke heaved a sigh of relief. _The dog was safe_. 

Two days. Two days and this would all be wrapped up with a tidy bow. Gram would have her dog back, Clarke would be back in Lexa’s arms, and all would be right with the world. And she’d hound the shit out of Finn until he paid back every penny of that reward money. Now she just needed to come up with an excuse as to why she couldn’t get together with Lexa for a couple days.

* * *

“I can’t believe you pulled me into this sordid little affair.”

Raven and Clarke were walking a small pack of dogs along South Street.

“I had to come up with something,” Clarke said.

“You do realize, this affects my sex life.”

“Why?”

“Hello? Dating a cop. I’m gonna have to lie and say I’m out of town too. Otherwise, I may be in the middle of an orgasm and shout, ‘Clarke’s still here! She never left!’”

“Who the fuck shouts that during an orgasm?”

“I’ve been known to shout a few things during sex. Some people talk dirty. I talk about mundane things going on in my life. Last weekend I yelled, ‘ShopRite was out of tomatoes!’”

Despite the current hell Clarke was living through, she giggled. “You’re so full of shit.”

“Maybe.” Raven smirked. “What’re we supposed to be doing again?”

“We’ll be at your moms for a couple of days helping her paint. I told her I may be too busy to call or text. She goes to Chicago tomorrow, so that’ll be helpful.”

“And then, Finn returns the dog Wednesday.”

“Yep.”

Raven shrugged. “I guess it sounds like a good plan.”

God, she hoped so. But Clarke had her doubts.

* * *

Two days later Clarke and Raven strolled down Chestnut Street mindlessly chitchatting when Clarke’s phone buzzed.

It was a text from Finn. _It’s done._ _When can we meet so I can give you some cash?_

A smiley emoji followed and she wanted to knock his block off. “Asshole.” This was nothing to smile about. This whole situation, all the lies, were crushing Clarke. Every time that she thought about Lexa a sharp pain stabbed at her heart.

“Who’s an asshole?”

“Finn. He returned the dog and got the reward money. Then he had the nerve to put a smiley face at the end.”

“Asshole.”

Soon another text came through. _Clarke, my baby is back!_ It was a picture of Catherine with her arm around the bulky Caesar, who appeared to be smiling in his own doggie way.

Raven peeked at Clarke’s phone. “Who’s that from?”

“Catherine.”

“She’s probably so relieved. I still can’t believe that asshole had the dog the entire time.”

Clarke sighed. “I know. I’m so glad Caesar’s back.” She dreaded the next call she would probably get. Turns out she didn’t have to dread long. Her phone rang and her heart constricted. She waited a few seconds before answering. “Hey you.”

Lexa’s excited voice warmed her insides, while simultaneously making her nauseous. _Was that even physically possible?_

“Caesar’s back! A gentleman who works at the bank saw the flyer.”

Clarke took a deep breath and tried to sound excited. “I know. Catherine just texted me a picture. I can’t believe it.”

Lexa laughed. “I should’ve known she would text you! What a relief.”

Clarke nibbled on her fingernail. “Did, ah, did he say how he found him?”

“Nope. No questions asked was the deal, so Gram didn’t push it.”

She replied with a less than spectacular, “Good idea,” and it did not go unnoticed.

“You okay?”

 _Oh, God. So not okay._ “Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired. We’ve been painting all day.”

“Well, I’ll let you go. I was in the middle of a meeting anyway and snuck out to talk. Get some rest. I can’t wait to see you tomorrow. I miss you so much. I’m hoping to have this Brookman thing wrapped up and we can celebrate that and Caesar’s homecoming. I’m wiggling my eyebrows suggestively right now.”

A mirthless chuckle fell from Clarke’s lips, and she clenched her eyes shut. “I can’t wait to see you too.” 

“You sure you’re okay?”

 _So perceptive_. Probably what made her such a good businesswoman. “Yeah. Yeah. I’m good. No worries.” 

“Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

After hanging up, Clarke’s shoulders sagged, and her head bobbed back. “This has been the worst two days of my life.”

“You should be relieved. It’s over now,” Raven said.

“Well, I don’t feel relieved. I lied to her. Lies come back to bite you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing exciting to report. In my class last week, the instructor was doing word association. She would say something and we had to write the first thing that came into our heads. The last one was, "What's your favorite word?" I said "fuck." The wife was sufficiently horrified.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok. Just a bit of angst to give the story some depth. Relax, you know clexa is endgame. Hope everyone is feeling a bit better this week after a very chaotic last week of elections here in the US. Can't wait for 1/20/21! My birthday is the 21st, so it will be a slightly early birthday present.  
> My book is coming out this Thursday! Hope you all give it a read. Here's the [link](https://www.bellabooks.com/category/bella-author-lori-g-matthews/)  
> Find my Facebook page [here](https://www.facebook.com/lorig.matthews.71).  
> If you wanna friend me, drop me a message in messenger letting me know. Still getting a lot of strange folks asking to be friends.  
> tumblr [here](https://lorig11.tumblr.com/).  
> Twitter: lorig11@lorigmatthews

[ ](https://imgur.com/Va5ZBeS)

Dufus is joyous over the election. In an understated kinda way.

Chapter 14

Lexa strode down the hallway towards her office. She was in a foul mood. They lost the Brookman proposal. Because she missed a critical item. She never missed a critical item. Never. Her father was upset, and she couldn’t blame him. Her only excuse was her burgeoning relationship with Clarke and the distractions that came with it. It was a piss poor excuse, really. Her business acumen should not desert her because she was falling for someone. 

When she arrived at Gus’s desk, he nodded toward the door to her office. “Indra’s waiting for you.”

Lexa rubbed her eyes. “Ugh. How long has she been here?”

“About fifteen minutes. Are you okay?”

“We lost the Brookman deal.”  
  
“No! How?”

“Don’t ask. Totally my fault.”

She brushed past him and walked into her office. Indra sat in the chair in front of her desk. She collapsed into her own. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

“It’s okay. I know a lot’s been going on. I heard about the Brookman thing.”

Lexa sighed. “I see good news travels fast. You must’ve talked to my father.”

“He called after you left Chicago this morning.”

“It’s been a shit week. Oh. At least we found Caesar. That happened yesterday. But I guess you know that too.”

“I do. I’m sure your grandmother is happy.”

“She is. And he looked to be in good health. So. Yes, all good there.”

“I’m glad.”

As happy as Lexa was for her Gram, she was in no mood for any more pleasantries. “What can I do for you?”

Indra placed a large, clasped envelope on Lexa’s desk.

“What’s this?”

“Open it. I’m not sure you’re gonna like what’s inside.”

With a groan, Lexa locked eyes with Indra. “What now?” She undid the clasp and pulled out the papers inside. Spreading them on her desk, she looked them over. There were photos of Clarke along with call logs. “What the hell is this? Have you been following her?”

“Per your father’s orders.”

Lexa cursed.

Indra raised her hands defensively. “I’m only doing my job.”

Lexa studied the pictures. The first photos were screenshots of Clarke’s Facebook page, showing her and the man who returned Caesar, Finn, kissing and drinking and looking happy. The posts were dated about six weeks ago. There was also a photo of Clarke and Finn as they sat at what appeared to be a diner table, holding hands. This was from two weeks ago. The next photo made Lexa’s hands shake. Clarke and Finn in a parking lot, with two other men. And _Caesar_. The last photo was Clarke counting money. “What the fuck is this?” She held up the photo with Caesar.

Indra cleared her throat. “That was taken two days before Caesar was returned.”

“No. It can’t be.” Lexa reread the date time stamped on the photo. It _was_ two days before. Her heart constricted. Her foul mood turned uglier, and darkness seeped into her brain. She checked the call logs. There had been definite contact between the two of them for the last month. The last sheet was a text message, from Finn to Clarke. It read, _“It’s done. When can we meet? I wanna give you some cash,”_ and was sent after Caesar was returned.

The next sheet was a copy of Clarke’s credit card statement, showing a balance of over $25,000. 

Indra leaned back in her chair. “We think they both cooked up the idea to take the dog, thinking they could collect a reward. Finn Collins has a sister who we think was in on it also. You may recognize the name. Ontari Winters.”

Lexa sucked in a breath. “She worked for my Gram. She only lasted a few weeks.”

“We think she’s the one who had access to the house, so she probably took the dog.”

Lexa covered her eyes with her hand. “I had a bad feeling about her. Gram hired her without letting me vet her.”

“She has a couple of priors. Small time drug dealing, shoplifting. Petty stuff. Works for Nia Black. So do those two guys in that photo. For all we know, Clarke could be mixed up with them also.”

If one could feel their heart harden, Lexa did right then. All the warmth and feelings about Clarke being “right” for her started to slip away. “Jesus Christ. Could my day get any worse?”

“I’m sorry. But it’s better to find out now, before you get in too deep.”

Lexa looked up sharply. How much did Indra know about their relationship?

Indra’s head dipped. “It was quite obvious at the gallery last weekend that you two were together.”

Indra’s people were following them that night, obviously. Lexa thought back to the last meeting with Indra, when her office was filled with flowers from Clarke and Indra had noticed. Had she reported back to Lexa’s father that there may be someone new in Lexa’s life?

“When did you last see Clarke?” Indra asked.

“I haven’t seen her since Sunday. She was out of town the last few days.”

“Is that what she told you?”

“Yes. Why?”

Indra shook her head. “She never left town.”

The next two pictures broke her. Dated Tuesday: Clarke and Raven leaving the store. Dated Wednesday: same scene, different clothes. Clarke never left. She was here the whole time. She lied.

Lexa narrowed her eyes as all sorts of awful thoughts streaked through her brain. Clarke played her. She played Gram.

All the light in her life the past month, all the laughter, all the joy, was simply a ruse. Lexa had been a means to an end for Clarke. A way to pay off her debt.

How was it possible Lexa had been so duped? She was an excellent judge of character. Most of the time she could tell in the first minute of speaking with someone what they held in their hearts. Whether it be malice or good intentions. And Clarke, Clarke who seemed to be so pure inside, but clearly wasn’t, had used Lexa and lied to her. And Lexa was destroyed.

She spun her chair around and stared at the skyline. The skyline that Clarke loved. A single tear leaked from her eyes.

Never again. This was it. Women could not be trusted. Lexa would never trust again.

* * *

Clarke and Raven sat at their desks eating at late lunch when Clarke’s phone buzzed with a text.

_“Can you meet me asap? I’m at my office.”_

Clarke showed the text to Raven. “She’s back! Finally. God I’ve missed her.” 

Raven cupped a hand to her mouth. “Booty Call!”

Clarke grimaced.

“What?”

“I’m still dealing with the whole lying thing.”

“It’s over. Everything will be fine.”

“Should I explain to her what happened?”

“Eventually. I don’t know if I’d do it before I got laid.”

Clarke managed a small smile. The thought of being back in Lexa’s arms caused her heart to beat faster. “You’re right. I’ll do it in a couple days.” She finished her lunch and cleaned up her desk. “I’m gonna head over there.”

“Want me to give you a ride?”

“Nah. I’ll walk. I’ll see you later.”

“Have fun.”

Clarke rushed down the hallway, eager to set eyes on Lexa. Gus had his head buried in his desk, looking through files.

“Hey, Gus!”

When he looked up, his usual smile was missing. “Clarke.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Ah. I’m not sure.” He glanced around, making sure they were alone. “She’s in a horrible mood. At first, I thought it was because she lost the Brookman bid, but somehow, I think it’s something else. Maybe you can cheer her up.”

“She lost Brookman? Crap! She worked so hard on that.”

“I know.”

“Well, I’ll certainly try to cheer her up. I haven’t seen her since Sunday.”

He picked up the handset to his phone. “Clarke’s here. Okay.” He replaced the handset. “She said to go in.”

Clarke smiled. “No worries. I’ll put a smile on her face, I promise.” When she entered the office, Lexa stood at the window behind her desk, her back to Clarke. 

“Hey you. How was your trip?” Clarke asked.

“It was fine. How was yours?”

Clarke almost forgot she was supposed to be away for a couple of days. “It was okay. I missed you though.” When she didn’t turn around, a knot formed in her belly. She had every intention of wrapping her up and kissing her neck, but something in Lexa’s posture held her back. “Gus told me about Brookman. I’m so sorry. I know you worked hard on it.”

Lexa chuckled, but there wasn’t an ounce of mirth in it. “I’m glad everyone knows how I fucked that up.”

Clarke didn’t want to get Gus in trouble. “He didn’t say you fucked it up. He just said you guys lost it.”

“Well. I fucked it up.”

Itching to try and comfort, Clarke wandered closer. Papers spread on the glass desktop caught her eye. A screenshot from her Facebook page lay on top. “What’s all this?”

Lexa finally turned and Clarke trembled. Lexa’s lips were set in a hard line, and her eyes were cold. There was no twinkle, no warmth visible anywhere.

With arms crossed, she said, “You tell me.”

Clarke was left to stare with an open mouth. “Tell you what?”

Lexa harrumphed. “Did you get your cash?”

A heat surged through Clarke’s body. But not the good kind, not the sexual kind. The dread kind. A small trickle of sweat rolled down her back. “What cash? Lexa, what’s going on?”

“The cash from your little scheme. The little scheme you and your boyfriend cooked up.”

Frustration choked her. “What are you talking about?”

Lexa opened the desk drawer and tossed a picture at Clarke. “Your scheme to steal my Gram’s dog and collect the reward money.”

Clarke grabbed the photo. It was taken on Monday, in the parking lot. Clarke with Finn and Murphy’s goons. And Caesar. The air left her lungs and she couldn’t breathe, because Clarke realized how all this must look. 

“And here’s this.” Lexa showed Clarke the text Finn sent, about getting her some cash. 

“I can explain.”

Lexa nodded. “Go ahead.”

Her sharp eyes cut into Clarke’s heart. “They were gonna kill him.”

“Who?”

“Finn.”

“Your boyfriend?”

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Oh. Your Facebook account says something different.” She made sure to shove the screenshots in front of Clarke.

Clarke was on edge because of Lexa’s body language. She looked cold and calculating. She imagined this was how Lexa did business. Detached and aloof. And cruel. Clarke tried to defend herself from the mountain of evidence piled up on the desk. “We broke up almost two months ago. He...he’s a gambler and I was at his apartment, and these guys came in. Those guys,” she pointed to Murphy’s boys, “they came in and threatened me, and threatened Raven. They said Finn owed them a lot of money, and if he didn’t pay up, they were gonna cut off my fingers. They destroyed all my paintings. After they left, I grabbed my shit and got the hell out of there. I broke up with him.”

“But you kept in touch.” Lexa pushed the phone logs across the desk. “And here, it looks like you had a date.”

It was a picture of her and Finn at the diner, looking like they were holding hands. Clarke’s voice rose as she defended herself. “It wasn’t a date. He was explaining what happened. How he was in deep with some bad people.” She covered her face with her hands. “You’re misreading this whole thing.” She dropped her hands. “And I had no idea he took the dog. I found out on Monday.”

Lexa’s voice boomed around the office. “And you never told me! Instead you lied, telling me you were out of town.”

They both yelled, and neither cared who heard. 

“Yes. I lied! I made a mistake. And I apologize for that. But who’s to say they wouldn’t have killed him? I couldn’t have that hanging over my head, as much as I dislike him.”

Lexa tossed another picture in her direction. Clarke counting the money. “What’s this? Your down payment for helping him?”

Clarke wilted from Lexa’s onslaught. _Why wouldn’t she listen?_ “No, goddamn it. He opened a credit card in my name and ran it up over twenty grand. He promised to start paying me back.”

Lexa slid Clarke’s credit card statement over. “Actually, it’s $25,343. 41.”

“What the hell?” Through the haze of fear, the fear of losing Lexa over this stupid misunderstanding, a sudden thought hit her brain. “How did you get this? How did you get these pictures? Did you have me followed?” 

She shot an accusing look in Lexa’s direction, and she flinched. A chink fell off her armor as a small flicker of the old Lexa flashed in her eyes. “No! I didn’t.”

“Then where did you get these?”

“Indra.”

“Who’s Indra?”

“Our head of security.”

“So, she’s been following me and taking pictures of me?” Her heart was breaking, and tears threatened, but she held them in check. “Is this how you treat everyone in your life? With such distrust?”

Lexa’s voice rose. “How can you say anything about trust? Look at all this! And let’s not forget, you lied to me. You said you were away for the last couple of days. And you never left town.”

The lie. Lies always come back to bite you. “I did lie. And I’m sorry about that. I was wrong. But this,” she swept a hand over the desk and all the evidence condemning her, “this is just as bad. If not worse. It’s cherry picked just to make me look bad. And you know what hurts the most? That you were so quick to think the worst of me.” Clarke’s eyes drilled into Lexa’s.  
“You had no intention of listening to me today. Your mind was already made up.” 

With that Clarke turned around and stormed out of the office.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully have the last two chapters up quickly. Time to wrap this up! Where were you when they announced Biden's victory? I, who had been glued to my twitter for 72 hours, was out raking leaves. For half an hour. And it was announced. So I missed it. But I'm so proud to call Pennsylvania home, since we clinched it for Joe and Kamala. And since I live right outside of Philadelphia, I can be doubly proud! They were dancing in the streets Saturday.  
> Ding Dong, the witch is dead!


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one more chapter after this and it's a wrap!  
> My book is selling like hot cakes! At least I hope it's selling like hot cakes. Actually, I have no clue how many copies were sold. Might've been like twelve. No, probably twenty since my friend Patsy bought five copies. One for each pet. Here's the [link](https://www.bellabooks.com/category/bella-author-lori-g-matthews/)  
> Remember, if you buy it and like it, please leave a review. Amazon will recommend books with lots of positive reviews.  
> Find my Facebook page [here](https://www.facebook.com/lorig.matthews.71).  
> If you wanna friend me, drop me a message in messenger letting me know. Still getting a lot of strange folks asking to be friends.  
> tumblr [here](https://lorig11.tumblr.com/).  
> Twitter: lorig11@lorigmatthews

Dufus and friends are looking forward to the last chapter.

**Chapter 15**

“This room is nice,” Clarke said.

“It’s okay,” Aden answered.

They sat on the floor in his new bedroom at the Woods House, backs against the bed frame. Another single bed was pushed against the other wall and two desks were in opposing corners. 

Today was move-in day. Lincoln, Octavia and Raven had all just left. Empty pizza boxes littered the room. They had an impromptu lunch party after a shopping spree to spruce up Aden’s new space.

“Better than sleeping on an air mattress.” Clarke tried to perk him up, even though her heart had just been shattered into a thousand pieces yesterday.

She needed to put him at ease, so she placed her own pain on the back burner. She looped an arm around his neck and tugged him closer. “You’re gonna love it here with all your new friends. But I’m gonna miss having you around.”

“Same,” Aden mumbled.

“Listen. I was thinking.”

Aden rested his head on Clarke’s shoulder. “Yeah?”

“When I get back in a few days, I’m gonna see what all I have to do to become a foster parent.”

Aden’s head snapped up. “What?”

Clarke managed a small smile. He needed her. Later she could continue her clutching and wailing over a broken heart. “You heard me.”

His eyes brightened. “For me?”

Clarke’s head tilted to the side. “Oh no, not you. I was thinking of someone else.” See? She could still joke. Lexa Woods hadn’t completely destroyed her.

Aden shot to his feet. “Really? Really? You mean me, right. You’re just kidding, right?”

Clarke lifted herself from the ground with a groan. Sitting cross legged was so much easier when she was a teenager. “Of course, I’m kidding, silly. About wanting someone else, not about the fostering thing. We’re family damn it!”

“Oh my God!” He fell into her arms.

Clarke rocked him. “Now don’t get too excited. I’m not familiar with the process. I know I have to find a decent place to live. And I probably have to have some sort of steady income.”

“You make money dog walking.”

“Yeah. Some.”

“And you just sold that painting this morning.”

Clarke nodded as they pulled apart. It was a bittersweet moment. The absolute high of her first sold painting, and the absolute low of not being able to share it with Lexa. “True. But I’d have to sell a lot more before I could consider that a steady income.” She brushed a lock of hair from his eyes. “I may ask around at the local galleries and see if they’re hiring. Maybe I could mop the floors or something.”

His eyes blazed with energy. “I could get a part-time job! We’ll need the extra money for all the pet food. And I could cook our dinners too—”

Clarke laughed and held up a hand. “Easy, big guy. You’re gonna have enough on your plate with school. You’re already behind because you’ve missed these last few months.”

“Lexa arranged for a tutor, so I’ll be caught up in no time, and…” He stopped. Realizing his mistake, his face pinched with regret. “I’m sorry.”

“No. Don’t be sorry.”

“I shouldn’t have mentioned her.”

“Hey. It’s fine. I’ll be fine. Let’s finish unpacking. You still have a couple of empty drawers here.”

They busied themselves with folding and tucking T-shirts and pants into his designated bureau.

“Clarke?”

“Yeah?”

Aden fiddled with the shirt in his hands. “I have a feeling it’s gonna work out. I think you guys are gonna get back together.”  
  
“You do?”

“I do. I don’t why. I just do.”

The fact that he could be so positive, after all he’d been through, all the loss and rejection, warmed her heart. Who was she to argue? Clarke ruffled his hair. “Okay. If you say so.” His answering smile almost gave her hope that things would work out. Almost.

* * *

Lexa moped in her office. It was late, and all the staff had gone home. The only salient thing left in the building was the opened bottle whiskey wrapped in her fist. A bottle that had been full an hour ago. 

A white envelope sat in front of her. Gus had delivered it to her this morning, with no explanation. For the umpteenth time she dumped the contents onto her desk. The checks she’d written to Clarke. All uncashed. Every. Single. One. 

She didn’t know what to make of it. Why didn’t she cash them? She obviously needed money. It was the reason behind their whole seedy scheme. Their whole con.

Or was it? A small voice kept badgering her. A voice that championed Clarke. Told Lexa she was too quick to judge. Too quick to condemn her. Told her Clarke wasn’t Costia. Not even close.

The only way to shut the voice up was to take another swig from the bottle. Her head was throbbing in pain, but that didn’t stop her from tipping the bottle back.

Clarke. Clarke with the smiling eyes and dimples. Clarke, who played Lexa’s body like a fine instrument. Clarke...who stole her heart. And crushed it. The bottle made its way back to her lips and she took a long pull. 

_“You had no intention of listening to me today. Your mind was already made up.”_

She banged the bottle onto the desk.

It was true. Lexa had already made her mind up. Was she too quick to just accept what Indra said? Should she have waited to pass judgement? The Brookman thing had rocked her. It probably wasn’t the best time to look for an explanation from Clarke. Not in that ugly mood.

She rubbed her eyes to stop the flow of tears that threatened. She felt shattered. And God she missed her. Ached for her. She’d slept on the couch last night because she couldn’t bear to be in her bed. Clarke’s scent still clung to the pillowcases. 

Her phone chimed with a text from Gram.

_Made a reservation for brunch on Sunday for the four of us. We have lots to celebrate!_

Lexa sighed. She hadn’t told Gram about this whole fiasco yet. It was still too fresh to discuss. And a small part of her didn’t want to sully Gram’s feelings for Clarke. Why the hell that was she had no idea. Clarke lied. Clarke betrayed her.

_Or did she?_

_Stop it! She did!_

The chime of the elevator startled her. 

Footsteps echoed down the hallway, and her body became rigid. She reached for the phone, with the intent of calling security. Her hand relaxed when Luna poked her head through the doorway. 

“Hey.”

Lexa’s shoulders slumped in relief. “Hey. C’mon in.”

Luna slid into the chair in front of the desk. She took in the half empty whiskey bottle. “No glass?”

“Ppphht. Who needs a glass?”

“Gus called. Said to check in on you. He was worried.”

“Ppphht.”

“You wanna share that bottle?”

Lexa huffed, but rose on unsteady legs to get a glass for Luna. She smacked it down and splashed some liquid into it. With another huff, she collapsed back into her chair. “Women suck.”

Luna took a sip before answering. “Some women do. Yes. But. Some don’t.”

“She played me.”

Luna tilted back in the chair. “I don’t think she did.”

“I’ve got the proof.” She opened her drawer with the intent of pulling out the evidence.

Luna stopped her with a raised hand. “I know you think you’ve got proof.”

Lexa shut the drawer. “What’s that supposed to mean? I’ve got phone records, pictures. It all adds up!”

“Does it really?”

Luna’s coy attitude annoyed her, and she sulked. 

“Did Clarke explain?”

“She tried. Said her boyfriend’s life was in danger, or something.” 

“I have reason to believe she was right.”

“Of course, you do. You’re sleeping with her best friend.”

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

Lexa shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Clarke helped bring down Nia Brown.”

Lexa narrowed her eyes. “What are you talking about?”

“She had pictures of the warehouse Nia was using to store all the heroin. She kept it all buried in secret compartments in the shipping containers. When Clarke showed me the pictures, we raided the place and found the stash.”

Lexa was in no mood to rain plaudits down on Clarke. “Whoop-de-do.”

Luna smirked. “Okay. I know you’re on a bender right now, but I need you to listen. My gut says Clarke had nothing to do with stealing the dog. What does your gut say?”

“My gut is drunk.”

Luna leveled her steely gaze at Lexa. “What does your gut say?”

Lexa was feeling stroppy and uncooperative. She wasn’t in the mood to listen to her gut. So she lied. “That she can’t be trusted. That all she wanted was money.” She casually slid the envelope with the uncashed checks from her view.

Luna rose, took the whiskey bottle and placed it back on the shelf. “Let’s get you home. Maybe you’ll be thinking clearer in the morning.”

* * *

The next morning wasn’t kind. Lexa groaned and pulled the pillow on top of her face. Her belly rippled with nausea and pain pounded behind her eyes. She inhaled deeply and was assaulted by the smell of Clarke’s shampoo. She was too hung over to be angry, so she lay quietly, comforted by the smells of the woman who’d tilted her world upside down. Bits of her conversation with Luna floated back to her. Evidently Clarke brought down the biggest drug lord in Philly. And probably had no idea she did it. 

A smile tickled Lexa’s lips.

She thought back to Luna’s question last night. What did Lexa’s gut say about Clarke? But more importantly, what did her heart say about Clarke?

They both answered in unison. 

God. She was a fucking idiot. 

She threw off the covers and stumbled out of bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will get the next chapter up quickly. I did have a fun travel story, but posted it on my Facebook page instead. So I'm tapped out for a funny story for the week. Hope you all are doing well and staying Covid free! Wear a mask!


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is it. Our last chapter. I hope you all have enjoyed the story. I sense there's not as much Clexa traffic on this site as there used to be. I guess everyone moves on. Sad. Some have asked what else I've been working on, and if I have another Clexa story in me. Not sure about that, but I have been editing Sleepless and will try and turn that into a novel also. So, if you loved Sleepless, might be a good idea to download it so you always have it.

Our last Dufus pic. Perhaps we should use her real name, Banshee. Look how majestic she looks!

**Chapter 16**

Lexa burst through the Pet Investigator front door. “Where’s Clarke?”

Raven and Octavia, lolling at the desks, snapped to attention.

“She ain’t here,” Raven said.

“Where is she?”

Raven glanced at the clock on the wall. “She may or may not be getting ready to board a plane to Orlando. Delta flight 633. Maybe. But that could be hearsay.”

O nodded. “We’re not at liberty to discuss. But it leaves in 90 minutes. Gate C-9...or so we’ve been told.”

“She’s going home to her family,” Raven said. “And she’s not coming back. According to anonymous sources.”

The color drained from Lexa’s face. “What? Arrggh.” She rushed back out the door.

O arched a brow. “Why did you say she wasn’t coming back?”

“To add some urgency to the situation.” Raven whipped out her phone to send a text.

“Who you texting?”

“Abby. She’ll need to facilitate things.”

O laughed. “You’re bad.”

* * *

When she arrived at the airport, Lexa rushed over to the Delta counter. “I need to get on the plane that’s leaving for Orlando.”

The woman behind the counter frowned. “It might be too late. I think they’re boarding soon.” She tapped on her keyboard, with the frown still attached to her face. “Okay. I have exactly a minute to make your reservation.”

“Do it please.”

“Let’s see. It’s almost a full flight, but there are two seats still available in coach.”

“I’ll take one. Either one.” Lexa tossed her ID and credit card onto the counter.

The woman grabbed them and went to work. Her fingers were flying along the keyboard, but she still wasn’t moving fast enough for Lexa, who drummed her fingers impatiently on the counter.

“Do you have any checked bags?”

“No.”

“Just one way?”

Lexa would figure out how to get home later. “Yes.”

“Do you have TSA PreCheck?”

Lexa grimaced. What the hell was her number for precheck? Gus usually took care of her travel plans. He, of course, would know it. But time was running out. “I do. I just don’t know what it is off the top of my head.”

The woman pursed her lips.

Lexa checked her watch. She needed to get moving. “Just book it.”

The woman nodded and continued with the reservation. The computer spit out the boarding pass and Lexa was on her way, hustling up the escalator. With a loud groan, she slid to a stop at the security line. It was long. Figures. Boarding would start in ten minutes, and here she was stuck. She gritted her teeth. She cursed the slow-moving line. She cursed herself for letting all this happen in the first place.

God damn it. _Move it people!_ The line slowly zigzagged back and forth. _Jesus Christ, was it like this all the time?_ She craned her neck to count how many were in front of her. Thirty-five. _Fuck fuck fuck!_

By the time she handed her papers to the TSA agent, her blood pressure was through the roof. She removed her shoes and threw her bag on the belt, only to wait in another line for the body scanner.

Finally, she was free! But of course, C-9 was the furthest away. Boarding had begun thirty minutes ago. She didn’t bother to put her heels back on, running practically barefoot through the terminal, picking up God knows what diseases in her stocking feet.

The gate came into view. Nobody was in line, but the door was still open. Breathlessly, she handed her boarding pass to the agent and continued down the jetway. She heaved a sigh of relief. _Made it!_ A quick peek down at her boarding pass told her she was in row sixteen, seat B. She nodded to the flight attendant who told her to take her seat because they were getting ready to lock the doors. Lexa headed down the aisle, keeping a look out for Clarke, but not seeing her. She must be in the back. She arrived at row sixteen and squeezed into the middle seat.

Take off was uneventful. The plane climbed to thirty-five thousand feet and the seat belt sign turned off. Lexa unclasped her belt and apologized to the woman sitting next to her. “I’m sorry. I need to use the bathroom.”

The woman scowled but unbuckled and stood to let Lexa through. She slowly walked down the aisle, looking from side to side. Hunting for tousled blond hair. Twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four...and there she was, in row 25 seat A, head leaning against the window, earbuds in, staring at the clouds. “Clarke.”

Clarke’s music was turned up and she didn’t hear.

Lexa tried again, with more volume. “Clarke.”

An older woman with short gray hair sat in the aisle seat, and a burly man was squished into the middle seat. Both glared at Lexa.

“Um. Would you mind?” She pointed to Clarke and the gentleman in B elbowed her.

Clarke flinched when she spied Lexa and removed one of the buds. “What are you doing here?”

“I need to talk to you.”

“I’m not talking to you.” With a clenched jaw, she inserted her bud and resumed staring at the clouds.

Okay. Clarke was obviously very upset. Lexa chewed on her bottom lip as she weighed her options. She leaned into the row. “Would you mind switching seats with me?”

The man’s forehead creased. “I don’t think that’s allowed.”

“I don’t think anybody will notice.” Lexa smiled coyly.

Clarke glared and removed her bud again. “Don’t switch seats with her.”

The gentleman looked back and forth between the two women. “Ah. I guess I’ll stay here.”

Lexa dug into her bag and produced a wad of bills, waving them in the air. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

His eyes grew big with curiosity.

“There’s two hundred dollars here. It’s yours if you switch seats with me.”

“Don’t do it,” Clarke growled.

His eyes darted back and forth, and Lexa knew she had him. She waved the bills again. “It’s simple. The money is yours if you switch.”

“Is it an aisle seat?”

Damn. He was going to play hard to get. “No. It’s a middle seat. Same as you have here.”

His lip curled and a look of disinterest took over his face. “No thanks.”

Clarke’s sarcastic grin suggested victory.

Lexa’s hand snaked back into her bag. “Make it three hundred.”

His eyes lit up. “Okay.”

Clarke’s mouth dropped open. “No. You can’t switch. I’m pretty sure it’s against the law or something.”

He gave her an apologetic look, grabbed the cash and stood. “Sorry.”

Lexa smiled sweetly. “Sixteen B.”

He crawled into the aisle, and she settled in next to Clarke.

Clarke stared at her. “I can’t believe you did that. I’m gonna tell the flight attendant.”

Lexa buckled up and for the first time in hours, relaxed. “I’ll pay her off too.”

“I should’ve told him to hold out for more.”

“And I would’ve paid.” Lexa shifted in the seat and tried to get comfortable. She wasn’t used to traveling in coach. She considered herself trim, and still had a hard time establishing some personal space. The woman in the aisle seat laid claim to the arm rest, and she wasn’t about to poke Clarke’s arm off its perch. “It’s tight back here. Is it always this tight?”

Clarke smirked. “Not used to being with the little people in the back, are we?”

“It’s not…” Lexa closed her mouth before she got herself into trouble.

Clarke’s eyes narrowed. “Why are you here?”

“I told you. I needed to talk to you.”

“I’m not interested in anything you have to say.”

The beverage cart stopped at their row and the flight attendant asked if anyone needed a drink.

Clarke raised a finger. “I’ll have a gin and tonic...on her.” She nodded at Lexa.

Lexa spoke to the stewardess. “That’s fine. And I’ll have a bourbon on the rocks.” She held out her credit card.

Clarke caught the attention of the older woman in the aisle seat. “Drinks on her.”

The woman smiled. “Oh. Okay. I’ll have a rum and coke.”

Clarke leaned far enough forward to catch the eye of the man in the row across the aisle. “Drinks on her.”

Soon all the passengers within earshot of Clarke were ordering drinks.

Lexa took it all in stride. She’d do whatever it took to win Clarke back, even if it meant hundreds of dollars spent on alcohol while cruising at thirty-five thousand feet.

When everyone settled in with their alcoholic beverage of choice, Lexa whispered, “Clarke.”

Clarke brows lowered. “What?”

Lexa flinched at the timber of Clarke’s voice. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? For having me followed?”

“You had her followed?” someone in row 26 asked.

Clarke half stood and turned. “She did. Can you believe it?”

“I’m sorry,” Lexa said again.

She huffed. “For having someone pry into my life? For looking up my credit card statement?”

“Oh, whoa!” the man in 26C said. “That isn’t right at all.”

Lexa tried to defend herself to the flash mob jury. “I didn’t know she was being followed, and I didn’t know anyone looked at her credit card statement!”

“Don’t take her back, seat A,” the passenger in 26B said.

“She said she was sorry,” came from 24C.

Lexa pointed to 24C. “I said I was sorry.”

Clarke tossed aside the apology. “You had someone pry into my life. You didn’t trust me!”

“I told you. I had no idea all this was happening.”

“Ha! Whatever.”

This was going to be challenging. But she did have two hours. “I’m sorry for not trusting you. I was wrong. I was stupid. Please forgive me. Please give us another chance.”

“I can’t be with someone who doesn’t trust me.”

The woman next to Lexa leaned forward. “Trust is very important in relationships.”

Clarke gave a vigorous nod. “Thank you, ah...what’s your name?”

“Barbara.”

“Thank you, Barbara.”

“My friends call me, Babs.”

“Thank you, Babs.”

The woman in 24A spoke through the crack between the seats. “Trust is the most important thing in a relationship.”

The man across the aisle in 25D caught Lexa’s eye and chimed in. “Without it, you’re dead in the water.”

Clarke thrust her shoulders back. “I would say, we have a unanimous decision, wouldn’t you? If you can’t trust me, then we can’t be together. So I guess you just wasted three hundred dollars.” She paused. “Plus the drinks.” The earbud went back in and the volume jacked up. The cloud stare resumed.

Lexa blew out an aggravated breath.

Babs patted her leg. “Give her some time.”

Lexa’s mouth twisted in frustration. “I didn’t know she was being followed by my security team.”

Babs shrugged and went back to her sudoku. Babs brought nothing to the table.

* * *

  
Lexa followed Clarke through the terminal at a respectable distance. Neither spoke, and Lexa had no clue what would happen next. When they left the terminal, the humidity of the Florida air hit her full force. _Christ, she was overdressed._

Clarke waved at a woman parked in the pick-up lane, and they crossed the busy inside lanes to get to her.

“Hi, Mom.” Clarke hugged her.

“Hi sweetie. We’ve missed you.”

Lexa stood dutifully behind Clarke.

“And who’s this?” her mom asked.

“I’m Lexa.” Lexa thrust her hand out and the woman grasped it.

“Lexa, I’m Abby. It’s so nice to meet you. Clarke didn’t say she was bringing a friend.”

Lexa spoke up before Clarke could interject. “I was a last-minute addition.”

Clarke opened her mouth in protest, but her mom silenced her with a wave of her hand. “The more the merrier, I always say. Are you Lunch Lexa?”

Lexa peeked at Clarke who was still stewing, then directed a huge smile towards Abby. “I am Lunch Lexa.”

“Well, Clarke has been talking non-stop about you for a while now. All good mind you. I’m so glad to finally meet you.”

Lexa directed a smug look towards Clarke, who kept stewing. In fact, there may have been a bit of steam leaking from her ears.

“I hope you two girls don’t mind sharing a room. It has a king-sized bed, so I can’t imagine it being a problem.”

Lexa’s grin now took up her entire face. She glanced at Clarke while saying, “I’m sure we can manage.”

Clarke placed her hands on her hips. “You have two spare bedrooms. Why can’t we each have our own?”

“Your dad put some of his stuff in the blue room. It’s jam-packed.”

“Yesterday you texted me a picture of the new queen-sized quilt you bought for the blue room. And it was empty.”

“Well. Now it’s not. You’ll just have to share.”

Clarke did what she’d been doing for the past three hours. Stewed.

“Do you have any bags?” Abby asked.

“No,” Clarke said. “Let’s go.” She opened the passenger side door and slid in, leaving Lexa and her mom staring after her.

Abby lifted a brow and shrugged. “I guess she’s anxious to see her dad.”

Both women climbed into the car, Abby into the front and Lexa into the back.

The drive to the house was full of catch up chatter between Clarke and her mom. Lexa mostly stayed silent and enjoyed their back and forth. She could tell they had a close relationship.

When they pulled into the driveway, Clarke’s father stood by the front door waving.

The house was your typical one-story Florida-style home, with its sage-colored stucco walls and terracotta clay-tiled roof. The double car garage door was open but protected by retractable screen panels. Gardens lined the front walkway and butted up against the front of the home and were filled with a dazzling array of blooming flowers. A large pineapple palm sat in the middle of the lawn. Lexa thought it charming.

When Clarke got out of the car, she was pulled into a bear hug by her dad. “Princess! I’m so happy you’re here.” He released her. “And you must be Lexa.”

“Wait!” Clarke said. “How did you know her name?”

Abby spoke up. “I texted him when we left the airport.”

Clarke’s brows crinkled with confusion. “You weren’t on your pho—”

Lexa interrupted and extended her hand. “Nice to meet you Mr. Griffin.”

He waved her hand away. “Nonsense. It’s Jake and we hug around here.”

Lexa found herself in the warm embrace of one Jake Griffin. He smelled like sunshine and Old Spice. And it was comforting.

After entering the house, Abby led the girls back to the spare bedroom. “Here you go. I redecorated a few months ago.”

The room was a lovely soft peach color. Lexa smiled. “It’s lovely, thank you so much for your hospitality.”

“It looks good, Mom.”

One of Clarke’s paintings hung over the bed. A beach scene with an empty Adirondack chair and beach towel tossed carelessly over the back, and the waves of the surf rolling onto the beach.

Lexa pointed to the painting. “That has to be Clarke’s.”

“It is. That’s my baby girl.” She slung an arm around Clarke’s shoulders and beamed. “My baby girl who sold her first painting.” She gave Clarke a shake.

“Thanks, Mom.”

Lexa felt a sharp stab of pain. Clarke sold a painting, and she wasn’t there to celebrate with her! “You sold a painting?”

Clarke plopped on the bed. “Yeah.”

She wanted to throw her arms around Clarke and kiss her, but with the current state of affairs, she simply said, “That’s fantastic.”

Clarke wouldn’t look at her. Her fingers picked at the comforter. “It was pretty cool.”

Abby wrung her hands, perhaps sensing the tension in the room. “I’ll just let you girls get settled in. Your father is making dinner. I’m sure you’re hungry!”

“I’m starving,” Clarke said.

Lexa smiled. “Me, too.”

“All right. I’ll go help him. Just come on out to the lanai when you’re ready.”

“Your parents seem nice.” Lexa sat gingerly on the bed.

“They’re great.” Clarke slung an arm over her eyes and sighed. “Although they are acting a little weird.” She was quiet for a moment before saying, “I don’t know why you’re here.”

“I told you. I needed to talk to you and tell you how sorry I am.”

“I’m not accepting your apology at this time.”

Lexa’s ears perked up. _This time?_ Definitely some wiggle room there. “I understand. I’d be pissed too.”

Clarke removed her arm and sneered. “Would you now?”

“Yes. You have every right to be upset.”

“Gee, thanks.”

Her mom appeared in the doorway. “Dinner’s ready.”

“Thanks, Mom.” Clarke rose from the bed and Lexa followed her out onto the lanai where a table was set and filled with food.

Lexa’s mouth watered. She couldn’t remember when she last ate. This morning?

They all took a seat and began passing the food around. Over the next hour, Abby and Jake entertained Lexa with story after story of young Clarke and all the scrapes she got into when she was a child. They all laughed, even Clarke cracked a smile when her dad told Lexa how, as a four-year-old, Clarke had climbed the ladder and joined him on the roof of their row house in Northeast Philadelphia.

“I turned around, and here was my daughter, barely out of diapers, waving to me,” Jake said. “I nearly had a heart attack.”

“He called for me,” Abby said. “He said, don’t panic, but I need you to come out here and help me.”

Jake chuckled. “She came out and screamed bloody murder. Our little girl was quite the adventurer.”

* * *

Lexa, clad in one of Clarke’s old T-shirts, crawled into the king bed after finishing up in the bathroom. Clarke was already snuggled under the blanket with her back turned away. She fluffed her pillow and stared at Clarke’s back. “Good night,” she whispered softly. She could hear Clarke’s even breathing. She must’ve already fallen asleep.

Lexa ached to pull Clarke into her arms. Barring that, she settled for daydreaming about their time spent together the past month. All the shared laughs, the fun, the incredible sex, the affection. Soon daydreaming turned to fantasizing about touching Clarke, about bringing her pleasure. Thirty minutes of salacious thoughts got her nowhere, except sexually frustrated.

“Clarke,” she whispered again. “I miss you.” She reached a hand across and stopped short of stroking her back. The space between them seemed miles wide and she wished she could close the gap somehow. The best she could do was shift closer to the middle of the bed.

“And I love you.” Lexa knew Clarke was asleep, but she needed to say it out loud. She continued speaking in a quiet voice. “I never meant to hurt you. I was an idiot for not trusting you, and I’ll never forgive myself for that. I hope someday you can give me another chance, because I swear to God, I won’t let you down again.” Content after finally giving a voice to her feelings, she drifted off to sleep.

Sun streaming through the blinds bathed Lexa’s face in a warm light, and her eyes blinked open. Her face wasn’t the only thing warm; her entire body was swathed in heat. Sweet smelling blond tresses tickled her nose. Sometime during the overnight hours, Clarke had curled onto her chest. Lexa smiled and her arms tightened around the woman she loved. Clarke still slept soundly, and Lexa would enjoy this to the fullest. Her hands longed to caress down Clarke’s back and along her hip, but she feared that might wake her and spoil the moment.

For twenty minutes, Lexa luxuriated in the sensation of Clarke’s body pressed against hers. The gods had truly smiled upon her this morning. She felt like the luckiest woman on earth. Although maybe she was cursed because the throbbing between her legs demanded action. Demanded the satisfaction that only Clarke could deliver. It felt like a lifetime since they gave themselves freely to each other.

Soon the rest of the world opened their eyes and the sounds of life filtered through the windows, interrupting the serenity of the morning. The neighbor’s lawn mower roared to life and Clarke stirred while Lexa cursed, not ready to let Clarke go, for surely, she would pull away when she discovered where she spent most of the night.

But that didn’t happen. In fact, the exact opposite did, much to Lexa’s delight.

Clarke mumbled and scooted closer, nestling her nose into the crook of Lexa’s neck, softly kissing Lexa’s pulse point. “Who cuts their lawn this early?”

Lexa didn’t answer, refusing to move, not wanting to spoil the moment. _Was Clarke fully awake?_ No. She couldn’t be. She was probably still hovering in that space between dreams and wakefulness. Soon she would leave the bed, walk out of the room, and leave Lexa alone. Leave Lexa to her memories and fantasies.

“I love you too.”

Lexa’s heart skipped a beat.

Clarke raised her head and those blue eyes beamed happiness. Gone was the anger that was reflected in them yesterday. Gone was the cold. Now they were open and warm and filled with...love. “Did you hear me…” Lexa’s breath died in her throat as hope soared through her chest.

Clarke sat up and nibbled at her bottom lip. “I did.”

They stared at each other in silence for a few seconds. Soon the corners of Lexa’s mouth quirked up and a grin spread across Clarke’s face.

Lexa tugged Clarke down and crushed their lips together. Clarke moaned into the kiss and grabbed Lexa’s head to keep her still while their tongues caressed and stroked.

A quiet knock on the door startled them.

“Clarke. Are you gals up? What time do you want breakfast?”

Clarke’s moan of pleasure turned into a moan of annoyance at the interruption. “We’ll be out soon.”

“Okay. Your dad wants to make everyone breakfast this morning.”

After Abby left, they both giggled.

“Oh my God. I couldn’t remember if I locked the door or not,” Clarke said, chuckling. “Mom would’ve gotten an eyeful.” She placed a soft kiss on Lexa’s lips and leaned back to stare into her eyes.

Lexa ran a hand along Clarke’s cheek. “I love you. I am so in love with you.”

Clarke turned her head and kissed Lexa’s palm. “I love you too. And I’m sorry I got so angry. I know how things ended with Costia, and I should’ve cut you some slack with the way you reacted. Because it did look pretty bad.”

“No. I was wrong for not trusting you. And it’ll never happen again. I promise.”

Before their lips met again, Abby was back calling through the door. “I have to run out to the store. Do you want turkey bacon or ham?”

Clarke rested her forehead against Lexa’s. “Bacon would be great, Mom.”

“Okay.”

Lexa’s hands snuck under Clarke’s T-shirt and wandered along her spine. “I guess I’ll have to wait to give you a proper I love you.” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

“Maybe tonight, if we’re really quiet,” Clarke murmured, lips teasing along Lexa’s neck.

Soon their mouths were latched together, and they writhed against one another, and tonight seemed too far away.

Clarke’s lips slowly trailed down Lexa’s neck, across her collarbone and down to her breasts. A hungry mouth latched onto a pebbled nipple and she sucked hard. Lexa’s moan echoed around the room and she bucked her hips to invite more exploration.

Clarke was only too happy to oblige, and she slid her mouth along Lexa’s flat belly and across her hips. She nipped and sucked while thrilling to the gasps of pleasure falling from Lexa’s lips.

Soon she settled between Lexa’s legs and pushed them apart. Her fingers glided through the slickness and slipped inside, slowly pumping in and out while her tongue found Lexa’s swollen clit.

Lexa buried her hands in blond curls. “God you’re good at this,” she said with a breathy voice.

An hour later they were still going strong. Lexa was flat on her back, hands on Clarke’s hips, while Clarke grinded away on her leg. She loved seeing Clarke like this, eyes closed in determination, brows crinkled in concentration, hands above her head, tangled in her own hair as her hips bucked faster and faster. When her breath hitched, Lexa knew Clarke was close to release.

“Girls?” Abby called through the door.

Clarke’s eyes snapped open, but she kept grinding. She pushed out a strangled, “Yeah?”

“What else besides bacon? We can make pancakes or eggs. Or both I guess if you’re hungry.”

Lexa stifled a laugh. Clarke was ready to come and her mom wanted their breakfast order. Clarke’s hips slowed at the interruption, and Lexa decided to help her along by sticking her thumb between them and stroking her clit.

“Oh God,” Clarke softly moaned.

“What was that? Did you say OJ?”

“Yes! O...J,” Clarke managed to say while the pleasure peaked between her thighs.

“I’ll have your father go pick some oranges out back and we’ll use the new juicer he bought. What else?”

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Clarke began murmuring softly.

“Did you say pancakes? Or eggs?”

Clarke’s mouth opened in a silent scream as she tumbled over the edge of oblivion.

Lexa thought it was time to bail Clarke out, who was shuddering and shaking and basically incoherent. “Pancakes would be great, Abby!”

“Okay. I’ll warm up the griddle.”

When Clarke’s body stopped quivering, she collapsed on top of Lexa, whose chest was shaking from laughter.

“That wasn’t funny,” Clarke mumbled, as her exhausted body sunk into Lexa’s.

“It was a little funny.”

“I can’t believe I just had an orgasm while ordering breakfast. From my mom.”

“I hope you wanted pancakes.”

“Oh, God. I’m gonna kill you.” Clarke picked up her head, then plopped it back down. “After I recover from another fabulous orgasm.”

Lexa stroked her back and kissed her head.

Clarke remained motionless, completely spent. “I always thought make-up sex was a myth.”

Lexa kissed her again. “Really?”

“Yeah. I can’t say I’ve ever had great make-up sex. Til now.”

“I guess we’ll have to break up every week.”

* * *

The night before leaving Florida was spent much like the previous night. Making love. For hours on end. It was like they hadn’t seen each other for months instead of days. After one particularly spectacular encounter, Lexa lay exhausted across Clarke’s body. Clarke threaded her fingers through Lexa’s hair and rubbed her scalp. Lexa purred in contentment. “I’ve been thinking.”

Clarke tickled her ears. “About what?”

Lexa lifted her head. What she was about to say was something that had been on her mind since yesterday. And she was never so sure about anything in her life. “Just hear me out, okay?”

Clarke nodded.

“I want you to move in with me. And before you make a fuss and say it’s way too soon, and we’ve barely had any time together, I want you to know that I have never, ever felt this way about anybody. Ever. I want to come home to you every night. And I want to cuddle on the couch with you every night. And I want to make love to you every night.” After this very wild declaration, she took a breath and chanced a peek at Clarke, who was wildly grinning.

“You’ve really been giving this some thought.”

She shifted upwards and pulled Clarke into her arms. “I really have. What do you say?”

“I’d like to think about it if that’s okay. Like, just think about it for a little bit.”

Lexa kissed her softly. “Of course, you should think about it. It’s a big decision.”

After a few moments of silence, Clarke asked, “You have an office set up in your second bedroom, so...where would I paint?”

Lexa's heart rate kicked up a few notches. Maybe she’d have an answer sooner rather than later. “Hm. How about I get a bigger place? A three bedroom. And we’ll make sure one of the rooms has great natural lighting and we’ll make that your studio. Afterall, you’re gonna be a famous artist now, you need a knock-out space to work in.”

Clarke giggled. “Famous? I sold one painting.”

“But you’ll sell more. Oh, and we’re gonna celebrate that sale when we get back home.”

“Ugh. I wanted to tell you so bad! I almost sent a text a hundred times. But I was still pissed, and I wasn’t sure you’d even care.”

“You should’ve been pissed. I was an ass. And, of course, I would care.”

They fell into an easy silence, sharing soft kisses and gentle touches.

“There’s something else I haven’t discussed with you yet,” Clarke said.

Lexa placed gentle kisses on her cheek. “What?”

“It’s a big thing.”

Lexa leaned back. “Okay.”

Clarke took a deep breath. “I wanna foster Aden.”

Lexa was stunned, taken aback by the loving spirit of Clarke Griffin. “I shouldn’t be surprised. I shouldn’t be constantly amazed at how wonderful you are. But here you are. Surprising me again.”

“Well. What do you think?”

Lexa pretended to give it some thought. But really, there was nothing to think about. She loved kids, and she loved Clarke. “I guess we’ll need a four-bedroom place. What, with a teenager who’s gonna need his own room, and how many pets do you have now? We may need five.”

Clarke squealed with delight and kissed Lexa hard on the mouth. “I love you!”

Lexa rolled Clarke onto her back, ready to make love to her again. “A five-bedroom house! Raven will be so happy.”

* * *

“I’m so glad you came down to Florida, Lexa. I can see you make my little girl very happy.”

They stood outside Abby’s car at the airport.

A beaming Lexa glanced at Clarke. “She makes me very happy also. It was wonderful to meet you and Jake.” Lexa gave her a warm embrace.

“I hope you both visit again soon.”

“We will Mom.” Clarke kissed Abby on the cheek. “Thank you for a wonderful three days.”

After saying their goodbyes, Lexa and Clarke walked across to the terminal.

“I have a surprise,” Lexa said.

They stopped before walking inside.

Clarke raised her brows. “What?”

Lexa reached into her bag and produced two first class tickets to Philadelphia. She proudly waved them around.

“You got us first class tickets?”

“Yes. I thought we could spread out more in first.”

Clarke narrowed her eyes. “Uh-huh. Didn’t like your coach experience on the way down, did you?”

“It’s just more relaxing in first. It’s been a stressful week. I just thought we could relax without having someone hogging the armrests. Or kicking the back of our seats.”

“Well. I hate to break it to you. But I’m a coach kinda gal. I was raised coach.” Clarke then launched into a lecture on the trappings of wealth, and how she was a simple girl who liked simple things, and she hoped Lexa could understand. And how after everything that had happened, Lexa flaunting the fact that she could fly first whenever she wanted didn’t sit well with Clarke. “Because I’m not with you because of your money.”

A sheepish Lexa said, “You’re right. I’m sorry. We’ll fly coach. I’ll sit in coach with you from now on.”

They shared a quick kiss and a warm embrace.

When they pulled apart, Lexa went to tear up the tickets, but Clarke grabbed them and walked away, leaving Lexa staring after her.

Without turning around, Clarke held them in the air. “Yeah, fuck that. We’re flying first.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end! Always bittersweet to finish a story on here. I love you all, and appreciate the support you've given me these past four years. Unbelievable that it's been four years since I wrote Clexa Goes to Hollywood. Time flies and all that happy horseshit.   
> By now you all know where to find me, and you know where to buy #CassiNova if you're interested. Please keep in touch, drop me a line on email or on messenger, or twitter, @lorigmatthews.
> 
> Until we meet again...


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